


The Perfect Challenge

by marchofmay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Malfoys will be Malfoys, Time Travel, Tom is redeemed, tomione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-13 06:04:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 35
Words: 51,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3370586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marchofmay/pseuds/marchofmay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when Tom Marvolo Riddle, the teenage Dark Lord, meets his match?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hermione ran down the destroyed corridor, jumping over rubble and gripping her wand like her life depended on it. Which, actually, it did. She heard the terrifying crashes and blood curdling screams echo around the halls of the castle.  _Where was Harry?_ She had gotten separated from the others earlier on during the battle and was trying to find them again. It was best if they stuck together. That had been the plan, that is, until she had run into Bellatrix Lestrange herself.

Hermione sprinted down the corridor, dodging curse after dark curse that came shooting from the end of Bellatrix's wand. She skidded around the corridor in the hopes of losing her and came across Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood battling three Death Eaters. Hermione called to them, but they were too engrossed in their battles to notice her, so she spun around to face Lestrange.

She raised her wand and aimed it at Lestrange's cackling face. Lestrange stopped in her tracks as she saw Hermione facing her. "So," she sneered, "the little Mudblood wants to fight?" she paused and let out a disturbing giggle, "Time for you to die." she finished, her voice high pitched and grating.

Hermione inwardly rolled her eyes and fell into her duelling stance. Before she knew what was happening Lestrange sent a curse flying straight at her.  _Protego._ A blue shield flew up in front of Hermione and the curse smashed into it, leaving her unscathed. Lestrange laughed again, enjoying herself, as she sent dark curses flying at Hermione. She parried the spells, raising up shield after shield, having no time to attack at all.

As she was about to raise a thick yellow shield in front of her, she heard a yell from behind her and somebody scream Neville's name. Fear and anger building within her she raised her shield, Lestrange's curse reverberated off of it. Hermione broke the spell and started to pummel Lestrange with her offence. She spun around and dipped and ducked, while Lestrange brought up thick shields, trying to stop Hermione's onslaught.

She was barely aware of a voice behind her that shouted, "CONSTO TEMPUS!" At the same time Lestrange shrieked, "DEPULSO!" Hermione stood there as the two spells shot towards her, caught in the crossfire, and before she could raise a shield and protect herself, her world went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione woke up lying on hard stone. She blinked a few times in her confusion, then scrambled to her feet, ready to face Lestrange again. She stumbled back when the vertigo hit her and realised something was wrong.  _Where am I?_ She looked around and almost didn't recognise the very same corridor where she had been battling Bellatrix Lestrange. Except it wasn't in ruins and was now completely empty.

Hermione blinked in confusion and heard footsteps coming down the corridor. Spinning to face that direction, her eyes widened at the sight that greeted her. There, standing in front of her was Albus Dumbledore himself. He gave Hermione a puzzled look while she stood there gaping at him. He looked different. His hair and beard were an auburn colour instead of the familiar white. He looked younger, but still had his half-moon spectacles perched on his crooked nose. The warm twinkle in his blue eyes was still present and the familiarity and knowledge of his fate made Hermione's heart hurt in her chest.

"Well, aren't you a little early?" he said with a warm smile. Hermione couldn't help but smile back. "The Hogwarts Express doesn't arrive for another half hour, did you arrive some other way?" he asked. She shifted where she stood as his gaze pierced her. "Um... yes? I mean, I apparated here." she said quickly, hoping he would leave it at that. "Apparated? How old are you? You must have arrived outside, nobody can get through Hogwarts' wards." his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "Oh, I'm.. sixteen. And my friend brought me here. I arrived near the lake and got lost in the castle, I'm a transfer, you see."

Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up at this. "Oh well then, tell me about yourself on the way to the Headmaster's office."  _He's not Headmaster?_ He held out an arm and she fell into step beside him, quickly thinking up a story in her head. "So, where did you transfer-" Dumbledore stopped short when he caught sight of an older looking man who was walking towards them.

"Headmaster Dippet, we were just on our way to see you." Dumbledore greeted jovially.  _Headmaster Dippet? That would mean... Oh my goodness. I'm... I'm in the past. Of course, Headmaster Dippet, young Dumbledore, the repaired corridor... It all makes sense now._ "Ah Dumbledore." the man greeted with a short dip of the head. His lazy brown eyes- resembling a cow's- turned to Hermione, then back to Dumbledore, "And who might this young lady be?" Dumbledore smiled still and replied, "She is a transfer, Headmaster." Dippet looked mildly surprised as he dragged his eyes over Hermione again.

"Oh really? And where has she transferred from?"  _The man can't even address me himself? She_  frowned a little as the two men started off down the corridor and she followed. "I haven't had the chance to ask, though we should sort all that out in your office, Headmaster." Dumbledore said as they arrived at the Headmaster's office.

Dippet whispered the password and all three of them stepped into the office. Dumbledore pulled out a chair for Hermione as Dippet sat in the chair opposite the desk. "So, your name, miss?" Dippet asked as Dumbledore stood beside the desk. "Hermione DeLuca." she replied. "And where did you transfer from? Do you have the necessary papers?" Hermione's eyes widened and she fumbled for an answer. "Um... I don't have papers."  _Think, think Hermione... What now? Ah yes! I could be home-schooled. But, then why come here? What could possibly make me come here? It must be... what? around the 1940's... What could be a reason? Oh yes! Grindelwald! Of course. He was terrorising France. Got it!_

"I escaped from France, my parents are dead." she stated with the necessary amount of solemnity. Dippet raised a brow and Dumbledore looked visibly shaken for a moment before he sighed and shook his head sadly. "That is a tragedy, Miss Deluca. Surely, Headmaster, we could offer this young woman a place at Hogwarts?" Dumbledore turned to Dippet expectantly.

Dippet sighed heavily and sorted through some papers on his desk before sighing again.  _I'm really starting to dislike this man._  "Alright, alright." Dippet relented. "She can stay... How old are you, girl?" Dippet asked. "I'm sixteen." she replied, straightening in her seat and looking grateful, hoping to placate the disgruntled (and rather stuck up) Headmaster.

"Then you will be in Sixth Year. You will be Sorted after the First Years at the Welcome Feast." he said. Dippet then waved his hand in dismissal, "Now go." Dumbledore waited as Hermione stood and we walked out of the office. Once outside they stood in the corridor and Dumbledore turned to face her.

"I hope you enjoy your time here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore pulled out his wand and conjoured a long, familiar black robe, "Here, wear this and make your way to the Great Hall for the Welcome Feast." He handed Hermione the robes, told her where to find the bathroom and then gave her the directions for the Great Hall, though she already knew where it was and how to get there. "Well then Ms. DeLuca, I'll be seeing you at the feast." He gave Hermione a warm smile and turned to leave. "See you later, Professor." she smiled back.

Hermione walked towards the bathroom to get changed and took the time to sort through what had happened. One thing was decided: she needed to get back home no matter what.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione had been waiting in the side room beside the Great Hall for a while now. There were a few others there with her, some transferring like her, others joining for their NEWTS or OWLS after being home schooled. Hermione stood nearest to the door, pressing her ear to it, she could hear the familiar babble of students as they entered the Great Hall and then the voice of Headmaster Dippet silencing the crowd. He called forth the First Years and the Sorting began.

Nerves were making her hands tremble as she waited for the Sorting to end and her name to be called.  _Well, my fake name I suppose..._   _I have to get back home. They need me there. Maybe there would be something in the Library that could help? I should definitely search there first._

Hermione was shaken from her thoughts by Dippet's loud voice. "And now, students joining the other years will be Sorted. First up we have Beatrice Applebaum, who will be joining the Fourth Years!" he called and a young black haired girl opened the door and stepped out, moving towards the stool where she would be Sorted. She was put in Ravenclaw. Three more students were called before they got to her. "Hermione Deluca." Dippet called.

She took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the Great Hall. Instantly, hundreds of eyes were on her as she made her way to the stool where the Sorting Hat waited. Hermione kept her eyes on her shoes as she made the walk, remembering the first time she had done this and feeling almost the same way as she had then, nervous and more than a little lonely.

Then Hermione sat and the hat was placed on her head.

 _Ah. A "transfer"..._ The Hat chuckled in my head.  _And let's see a time traveller, too. Hmm, but where to put you. You are kind and hard working, but certainly not Hufflepuff, you are smart yes, but no, Ravenclaw doesn't seem to fit. What about Slytherin? Yes, you have the cunning and the mind to make a great Slytherin. But, Gryffindor would do you good as well. Oh dear, where to put you. You would meet your match in Slytherin, yes. But then again, your opposite too. I think..._

**GRYFFINDOR!**

The Hat announced to the rest of the Hall as it was taken off her head and she rose from the stool. She made her way over to the cheering table of Gryffindor students, looking for an empty spot to sit in. She saw a boy with red hair smile and point to the seat opposite him. She decided to sit there, just to get out of the spotlight.

Hermione rushed over and gave the boy a grateful smile before sitting down. She looked up and blinked. This boy looked just like Ron. He had the same red hair and long nose, but his eyes were a dark brown instead of blue and that stopped her awkward staring. "Hi there." he greeted cheerfully. "I'm Benjamin Weasley." he held out his hand and grinned at me. Hermione smiled back and shook his hand, she then looked to her right and saw a boy with dark hair and dark blue eyes grinning at her.

_Of course they would be best friends in the past too._

"I'm Weston Potter." he held out his hand too and she shook it. "Nice to meet you both, I'm Hermione DeLuca." she said. "Yep, we heard." Benjamin said with a bright smile. "So, you from France? Tough times there." Weston said, nodding thoughtfully. Hermione nodded solemnly, but was saved a response by Weston as he went on, "Anyway, Ben and I were just discussing old Sluggy." Weston whispered conspiratorially, nodding in Slughorn's direction. "We had a bet end of last year on how big he would be after summer. Ben's saying he's slimmer and I disagree, so now we have to measure him so I can win my five Galleons." Weston smirked. Ben rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to respond, but Hermione was distracted by the familiar face of Professor Slughorn.

He looked younger, too. But no less rounder or cheerful. He was sitting at the table chatting merrily with a bored looking Professor that had multiple limbs missing. Hermione smiled and turned back to the boys.  _Just like old times..._  Finally the food appeared on the table and the two boys snatched and laughed with one another, while stuffing their faces. Hermione smiled and ate in silence, remembering that uncomplicated time when it was just them three. Harry, Ron and her.

Hermione's eyes wandered the Hall while she ate and came to rest on the Slytherin table.  _What had the Hat said? Meet my 'match'?_  She studied the table, looking for anyone she might recognise. She saw a boy with pale blond hair that was probably Draco Malfoy's grandfather. She saw another boy that looked suspiciously like Sirius Black, though it must have been a relation of his. She saw a few other grandmothers and grandfathers of her Slytherin classmates back home, but paid them little attention.

Her eyes moved along the table and stopped at a handsome young boy who looked like he was her age. He had pale skin and dark wavy hair. His eyes were sharp and yet detached, giving him a haughty look. He was tall, at least six feet. And it was obvious he carried himself with pride. Hermione didn't recognise him, but there was something about him that made a shiver run down her spine.

As she studied him his strange eyes turned to lock with hers and he studied her in return, sizing her up. Hermione sat up tall as his eyes roamed over her, feeling slightly exposed. She watched him with a slight frown until his eyes came to rest on hers once again.

Then a small smirk pulled at the corner of his lips and an inexplicable sense of fear and washed over her while she stared at this boy Hermione was sure, was her 'match'.


	4. Chapter 4

" 'Mione! Hurry up!" Weston called from downstairs in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione rushed down the stone steps to meet the two boys, who had quickly become her friends, and head to breakfast with them. "I'm coming now, Weston!" she grinned from the bottom of the steps, facing the two. "Finally!" Weston groaned good naturedly and jogged to the portrait hole. Ben turned to Hermione and gave her an apologetic smile before they followed after him quickly.

The three of them walked down to the Great Hall and sat at the Gryffindor table. As both boys stuffed themselves with the delicious food, the class schedules were handed out by the Heads of Houses. Dumbledore handed Hermione her schedule since he was head of Gryffindor and he smiled warmly, winking at her before he moved on to Ben and Weston who said thank you through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. They all looked over their schedules quickly until the quiet was broken by Weston's unintelligible moan of dismay.

"Noooo." he smacked his forehead with the flat of his palm. Ben and Hermione shared a look, but smiled at his overreaction. "We have Potions, first. I cannot handle Slughorn first thing in the morning, especially a Monday. I mean he keeps talking about his Slug Club stuff. What's that about anyway?" he grumbled, but Hermione had zoned out at the mention of the Slug Club.

 _Right. That club Slughorn started for exceptional students. I had been hoping to be invited into it in Sixth Year. It all seems so pointless now._ "Weston, you are such a drama queen." Ben said with a smile. Weston gasped loudly and placed a hand on his chest in mock surprise. Ben and Hermione laughed and she returned to going over her schedule.  _I've already taken all these classes in Sixth Year back at home. I'm glad I said I was sixteen, then I have at least two years to search for a way to get home..._

" 'Mione? You coming?" Ben asked as they rose from the table, pausing to look at her. She shook herself and smiled, "Yeah." she stood hurriedly so as not to keep them waiting and they walked out of the Hall together. They had their first class, which was the dreaded Potions, with the Slytherins and none of them were looking forward to it.

As they walked into the classroom in the dungeons Hermione saw that they had been the last to arrive. There were only two work tables left. Ben and Weston claimed the table at the back, both looking back at Hermione with sheepish and apologetic smiles. Their small betrayal left one space left for her.

Hermione's eyes came to rest on her seat. Or rather the seat next to hers, which was occupied. His eyes met hers for a moment and she was grateful he had looked away because her eyes had widened in recognition. It was the same boy Hermione had seen at dinner last night. The handsome young boy with the dark eyes. She blinked and walked over to her chair, sitting down easily and busying herself with opening up her notebook. All eyes in the class, including her own, found Professor Slughorn when he walked into the room, the familiar waddle in his steps and smile on his face.

"Good Morning class." Slughorn greeted cheerfully. "Today we will be starting with a simple draught. With a potion most of you learned in your Fifth Year, The Confusing and Befuddlement Potion. The instructions and ingredients are on the board."

Slughorn turned to the board and lifted his wand, the instructions beginning to write themselves out in chalk. Without turning back he said, "You will be working in pairs. If you have an issue with your partner please sort it out amongst yourselves sensibly."

Hermione snuck a glance at her own partner at this, but he was busy taking down notes in his notably loopy, elegant script. She began to jot down the ingredients and instructions, determined not to be the first one to break this mutual silence.

All of a sudden he pushed back his chair, scraping the floor noisily and stood up. Hermione looked up at him, "Where are you going?" He glanced down at her and said in a low, measured voice. "To get the ingredients, you do know we need those for the potion, don't you?"

She scowled. He had said it as a genuine question and his blank, yet polite expression made her angrier. "Of course I do, but we are doing this together. You do know what pair work means, don't you?" she asked back sarcastically, gesturing with her quill to the underlined 'work in pairs' Slughorn had written above the instructions on the board.

He blinked and sat back down. Hermione waited for him to speak first, but after a moment of silence it was obvious he was not going to so she held out her hand in greeting. "I'm Hermione DeLuca. You are?"

He grasped her hand firmly, hard enough to be almost painful. His hand was cold and his touch sent an uncomfortable shudder down her arm. With a small nod of acknowledgment at her name, the boy spoke in that low, controlled tone.

"My name is Tom Riddle."


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione's eyes widened despite a part of her admitting to have already known his true identity. Still it was hard to wrap ones head around.

_Tom Riddle? This can't be happening... This cannot be happening._

The small smile on his face widened into a grin and his dark eyes flashed. "Don't worry, I usually have that affect on people." he sneered, all polite pretense forgotten now. Hermione quickly pulled her hand from his firm grip.

Her startled expression had faded when his facade had been dropped and now she frowned deeply. "Oh, you wish you had that affect. " she muttered under her breath once he was striding across the classroom to the ingredients cupboard.  _Who would've known the young Voldemort would be so arrogant, he has nothing to flaunt just yet... Then again. He is_ _ **Lord Voldemort.**_ She eyed Riddle out of the corner of her eye.  _He is surprisingly handsome..._ She shook herself, realising the turn her thoughts had taken.  _Hermione Granger! The teenage Dark Lord is not handsome. He's evil remember?_ She felt a little disgusted with herself and turned her thoughts from his looks when Riddle returned to the table with the ingredients.

Hermione reached out to the tray of ingredients, her hand hovering over the sneezewort, until it was grabbed by Riddle rather viciously. She gasped in surprise and glared at him, yanking her hand from his grasp. "Don't you even think about ruining  **my** potion, DeLuca." he snapped, picked up the plant and started to chop up the sneezewort stem diagonally and into equal pieces. She eyed his immaculate work for a moment before picking up the lovage and placed it in her mortar and pestle.

His eyes shot over to her, while she crushed the lovage leaves. 'What do you think you're doing? Are you deaf as well as dumb?" he hissed quietly, pausing in his work.. She raised a brow at his insult and continued to crush the leaves properly. "Do I  **need**  to remind you, Riddle? Pair work means that this is not  **your**  potion, it is  **our** potion."

He arched an elegant brow and replied after a moment. "Just don't mess this up, DeLuca. You'll regret it if you do." His voice had lowered into something genuinely sinister and it reminded Hermione who she was talking to.  _Perhaps it's best not to taunt him._

She eyed him and returned to her work and he did the same. We both worked in silence and once she had finished she added the lovage pulp to a boiling cauldron. While she moved on to slice up the scurvy grass Hermione couldn't help but study Riddle. She watched how he worked meticulously and then watched his hands which led to her looking at his concentrating face.

His eyebrows were a dark, defined arch and he had aristocratic features, but the strong line of his jaw amplified his masculinity. His nose was straight and his eyes dark enough that the pupil was indistinguishable. At this point she was looking very closely at him, her curiosity evident. However she recoiled slightly when she thought of Riddle's future self and his red eyes, full of violence and hate. It was then that she was snapped out of her memory by his deep voice.

"It's quite rude to stare, you know?" Riddle said, as an infuriating smirk pulled at his lips. Hermione narrowed my eyes at him and turned away with a frown, ignoring his words.

The rest of the lesson passed in blessed silence and soon she was standing in front of the steaming potion, with Riddle beside her, awaiting Slughorn's inspection.

Slughorn was making his way down the aisle between table to where Hermione and Tom were standing. He had just given Weston and Ben a P for their Confusion and Befuddlement Draught which had left both boys very confused and befuddled and had left Hermione amused. Slughorn reached their potion and flashed that proud grin at Riddle. Hermione smiled to Slughorn brightly and he nodded to her in acknowledgment, which earned her a strange, sidelong look from Riddle, but he was distracted when Slughorn began to test their potion. Riddle arranged his handsome features into a polite expression and waited expectantly for Slughorn to give them a grade.

Hermione, on the other hand, was getting rather frustrated as Slughorn performed many unnecessary and overacted tests on their potion, probably just trying to prove to the rest of the class just how good Tom Riddle was. He smiled widely, straightened, and announced proudly, "Outstanding, of course, Tom. I would expect nothing better from you." he chuckled and patted Riddle awkwardly on the shoulder before he turned to Hermione. "Well done, Ms. DeLuca. I'll be keeping an eye on your work from now on." he said with a conspiratorial wink, although everybody knew he was talking about a possible invitation to the Slug Club. She smiled politely, already taking a leaf from Riddle's book.

Slughorn walked back behind his desk and dismissed the class without much preamble. Hermione quickly packed up her things and started for the door. She didn't even get halfway down the corridor when Riddle stepped in front of her, cutting her off. "What do you want?" she asked, looking up at him. He grinned at her tone and folded his hands behind his back, stooping slightly to make notice of her shorter height. "I'm simply glad you decided to stay out of my way, DeLuca." he said. With a raised brow she drew herself up and frowned. "Who said I was going to stay out of your way? I wanted an Oustanding as much as you did, Riddle. I had thought you were perceptive about things, but judging my this conversation I may have perceived you wrongly. You might just be as dumb as I am apparently deaf." she said, recalling his previous insult.

"Goodbye Riddle." she smiled politely and sidestepped him, leaving him there as his eyes shot daggers at her retreating back.


	6. Chapter 6

_Her insult will not go unanswered._ Tom thought as he stalked down the dungeon corridor towards the Slytherin common room. He had been thinking about that girl, Hermione DeLuca, almost all day. And that infuriated him far more than her insult had.  
  
Normally nobody dared to insult him and even if they had the stupidity to try, their petty insults barely truly got to him, and they were always punished severely afterwards. He scowled when he came to a stop in front of the portrait that hid the entrance to the common room beneath the Great Lake. "Tenebrosus Lusum." he spoke lowly and the portrait swung open to admit him in.  
  
As he strode through the green and silver garbed common room towards his followers, his fellow house mates all but scrambled to get out of his way. They could see that Riddle was angry and nobody,  **nobody**  wanted to get in his way when he was angry. Or any other time too, for that matter. He made his way over to his fellow Sixth Year boys lounging on and around the black leather sofa in the centre of the spacious room.

His followers looked up as he approached, giving him their full attention as a sign of respect. "Meeting, tonight." he said quickly as he passed by, making his way upstairs to his dorm room. He locked the door once he had entered, knowing that his dorm mates would not mind if he was the one to lock the door.

He sat down on the emerald comforter on his bed, grabbing a book from atop his closet on the way. Tom lounged on the couch, draping an arm over the back. He read a paragraph, then re-read it, but soon decided to give up as his mind would not rest. He slammed the book down on the mattress and let out a heavy sigh of exasperation. Once that was done he lay back on the pillow and lay his arm over his eyes.

_Who is Hermione DeLuca?_

_\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

"No, Weston." Hermione sighed as she set her quill down on the table and looked up at the boy sitting opposite her. "I will not do your Transfiguration  homework for you." she said with finality. Weston sulked and looked to Ben for help, but Ben just laughed.

 "Now now Weston," Ben chided with a grin, "Be a good little boy and stop bothering the lady." he glanced at Hermione and they both burst into laughter while Weston pouted animatedly. "Oh, come off it Weston." Hermione laughed as she picked up her quill to finish her own essay on the uses of the spell  _Duro_.

"You know ever since you arrived 'Mione, Ben has been acting strange. If you ask me I think he likes you." Weston said smugly and stood, strutting away and looking pleased with himself. Ben blushed a deep shade of red to match his hair and Hermione smiled at him uncertainly.  _I can't have that! I'm not supposed to mess up the timeline..._  

After a moment longer of the awkward silence Weston had left behind Hermione stood and packed her things.  "I have to go. I promised Professor Slughorn I would see him in his office." Hermione looked to Ben and bit her lower lip. Ben stared at his own essay and nodded, looking sullen. "Bye Ben..." she murmured and walked away.


	7. Chapter 7

"Ah, Ms. DeLuca. Come in, come in." Slughorn smiled to her and waved her into his office. Hermione walked in, turning to gently shut the door behind her, before sitting stiffly in the cushioned chair in front of Slughorn's large desk.  
  
"You wanted to see me, Professor?" Hermione asked with a polite smile. He adjusted his position in the armchair behind his desk and nodded. "Well, Ms. DeLuca. As you may well have heard, I have a little club. Only for very gifted and ambitious students of course. It's exclusive." he stressed the word and laced his fingers together, resting his chins on his knuckles. "The Slug Club, it's called, and I've been looking for new members this year. Unfortunately, not many of our Hogwarts students meet the expectations and requirements for the Slug Club. However, there are a few that have." he smiled his big smile and tapped the side of his nose with a large finger.  
  
 _Oh dear..._  
  
"Ms. DeLuca, you are perfect for my Slug Club. Our first meet is Thursday night." Slughorn said, having the courtesy to wait for her agreement, despite the fact he hadn't actually asked her to join.   _I don't know if this is smart. Won't it mean you will have **less**  time to figure out how to get home? _Hermione looked back at Slughorn's expectant face and remembered the Professor as she had known him in the future with a fondness.  _Why not? Maybe it will help?_  
  
"Of course, Professor." Hermione said.  Slughorn's eyes lit up in delight and he nodded happily, "Splendid, DeLuca! The first meet is on Thursday night. But I've already said so, haven't I?" he wrinkled his nose and his eyes squinted before he continued. "It will be a formal affair, since it is the first meeting. I think you know what that means, DeLuca." Slughorn nodded and sat back, so Hermione took it as her cue to leave.  
  
"Goodnight Professor." Hermione stood and turned to the door. "Goodnight Hermione." Slughorn replied before the door shut between them.  
  
Hermione turned from the door and took a step forward without looking, bumping into somebody's chest. "Oh, excuse me." Hermione apologised, looking up to who she had walked into. "Oh, not a problem. You're the new girl, right? The..um.. transfer student?" Abraxas Malfoy  asked. He had the same pale blond hair as his grandson Draco, but his cheekbones were a little more angular and his nose a little rounder at the end. His eyes, which maintained strong eye contact, were almond shaped and a pale green colour.  
  
"Yes. Hermione DeLuca." Hermione replied. She actively tried not to look too friendly. He was still a Malfoy. "Well, I must be going." Hermione said quickly and stepped around him. Abraxas Malfoy stepped aside for me to pass and smiled politely, "Yes, so do I. Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. DeLuca. Goodnight." he said with a nod of his head which reminded her of Tom Riddle. Hermione suppressed a shudder and replied, "Goodnight."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
Tom Marvolo Riddle sat facing of his Knights of Walpurgis in the Come-And-Go Room, a name he thoroughly disliked saying.  _I'll have to think up another name for this place._  
  
The room was straight out of his imagination, with black marble walls and floor. One black throne-like seat was placed at the far end of the room, which was where Tom was seated elegantly. His knights knelt before him, their obedience filling Tom with a wave of glee.  
  
"Good evening, knights." he said, voice nonchalant, fingers twirling his slender wand around. He noticed his knights eyes were fixed on it and he smiled.  
  
"Good evening, my Lord." they replied in unison. All of them knelt so low their chests almost touched the floor. All except Malfoy.  _My 'right-hand man'. Malfoy is too unpopular. He would never dare take my place. And I would never let him._  
  
"Today, I have two matters of business to discuss. Avery." Tom called and Robert Avery looked up, refusing to look him in the eyes. He instead focused on Tom's feet. "Y-yes, my Lord." Avery stuttered. Tom took a moment to mock his stutter, a murmur of controlled laughter echoed from the other boys and Avery turned red.  
  
"Did you assure that there would be no disturbances next Thursday night?" Tom snapped. Avery kept his head down, eyes on the floor. "Y-yes, my Lord. There will be no Heads or Prefects patrolling the corridor. Dolohov and I will be disillusioned and keeping passers-by away from the office." he mumbled weakly. I nodded, offering obligatory praise, "Well done Avery."  _Though that will not spare you later._  
  
"Now, knights. As you may know, a transfer student, has arrived in Hogwarts. Recent circumstances have me thinking it would be wise to know more about this transfer." They all knew what Tom was talking about. DeLuca's blood status. "Malfoy, Black and Yaxley. You three will keep an eye on her. Don't follow her, but make sure you know her classes and her friends." Malfoy and Black bowed their heads deeply, but Yaxley looked torn. "My Lord, I do not wish to be rude-" "Then I suggest you be quiet, Yaxley." Tom hissed and cast a  _silencio_  on the boy. Yaxley's eyes widened and he lowered his head, but Tom still cast the spell. A bloody notch was cut into Yaxley's forearm, a punishment for speaking out of turn. Much worse would have followed if he had continued.  
  
Tom sighed and his eyes looked over his other knights. Many were cowering, awaiting their shared punishment. "You can thank Yaxley for this." Tom spoke, standing and raising his wand at the kneeling boys.  
  
 _Crucio!_


	8. Chapter 8

_It has been two weeks and I still haven't carried out my plan.  
  
I had gotten so caught up in everything that I had no time to visit the Library. Admittedly, I had also forgotten. But now it was time to find a way home._  
  
Hermione walked into the Library, being careful to shut the door behind her. She looked over the place and smiled. It looked the same as it always had. The large shelves were lined up one after the other on either side of an aisle. In the aisle was a long wooden desk where students were studying. Hermione walked down the aisle. When she got towards the end of the Library, near the Restricted Section, she found what she was looking for.  
  
Hermione pulled out some books on time travel and sat down at the long narrow tabletop joined to the bottom of the shelf. It was not even a half hour later when she was disturbed by someone clearing their throat behind her. She turned in the chair and found herself staring at a white Hogwarts uniform shirt with a silver and green tie. She didn't have to look up to know who it was.  
  
"DeLuca. I didn't think you would be interested in something as trivial as time travel." Tom Riddle said, hands clasped behind his back. "Riddle." Hermione replied curtly and turned back around in her chair, despite knowing how foolish it was to turn her back on someone like Tom Marvolo Riddle.  
  
Tom pulled out the chair next to hers and sat down, turning sideways to face Hermione. She looked up at him from her book and raised a brow, "Oh, you're staying, are you? Then I must be going." She closed her books, stacked them and stood up, but before she could leave Riddle grabbed her forearm and shot up, towering over her.   
  
His hand was cold and hard and Hermione tried to tug her arm out of his grip, but he only tightened it. "That was rude, DeLuca. I expected better from a smart girl like you." He sneered and tugged Hermione closer. She was still fighting the grip, her eyes shooting daggers. "One would think, such a pretty,  _pureblooded_  girl would have been raised with better manners." Tom's low voice grew malicious and Hermione finally wrenched her arm from his grip, admittedly frightened now that her blood status was in question.  
  
Tom blinked and lowered his arm, returning both hands behind his back. "I would be wary if I were you, DeLuca." He watched her adjust her grip on her books, regaining her composure. Hermione regarded him quickly, her anger making her reckless. "And I'm assuming you're a pureblood, Riddle?"  
  
Tom Riddle frowned angrily, watching her walk away. But he had seen her jab at his true blood status and Hermione knew he had.

  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
 _It had been two weeks and I still hadn't carried out my plan._  
  
 _It was DeLuca's fault. There was no question about it. She had been a distraction. But no longer. Now I could incorporate both my plans, I could make DeLuca suffer the way I wanted. How had she known? How had she known I am a half-blood? And why was she reading about time travel? One thing was for sure, she wasn't pureblood. Oh no, not judging by the defensive way she had responded._  
  
Tom punched the corridor wall as he strode down it. It didn't really hurt, but it had helped with the anger. His mind wandered to the last time something had actually hurt him.  
  
He had begun researching his family background in his Fifth Year. The mother who had abandoned him had been a descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself. However Tom had also discovered that his namesake, his father, had been a filthy Muggle. A  _Muggle_. Tom punched the wall again, frightening a few First Years, who quickly walked away from him. But Tom paid them no mind. He was on his way to finish his ancestor's noble work. In the last days of his Fifth Year he had begun research on the Chamber of Secrets. As Slytherin's descendant it was only right he find it and use it. But that was difficult. After months of searching he got nowhere, until last week when he had finally found something.  
  
Tom pushed open the door to the girl's bathroom. He checked that it was empty and then locked the main door with a flick of his wand. Then he began searching.  
  
He searched each stall for a sign or a marking that would show him the entrance, but found nothing.  
  
He searched the stone tiles and the walls. Again, nothing.  
  
After forty five minutes of searching, his head was beginning to pound and he was losing his temper. Tom moved to the sinks and splashed water on his face. When he turned off the water he saw it. A snake carved into the side of the silver tap.  
  
Tom grinned in triumph and steppes back, eyes looking over the entrance. _This was it._  The way to open the chamber came to him immediately. He hissed in Parseltongue, " _Open."_  The sinks separated from one another, grinding forward along the metal grate on the floor. The sink with the snake on it sank slowly down beneath the floor and revealed the entrance he had been searching for for months.   
  
Tom Riddle stepped forward and entered the Chamber of Secrets.


	9. Chapter 9

_I am so late!_  
  
Hermione walked quickly down the corridor, heading to Charms. She had been up late last night reading over the books she had borrowed from the library, but so far she had found nothing to help her find a way home.  
  
 _I remember Bellatrix cast her spell. And someone else cast theirs and they collided. But what were the incantations? I think it was-_ That was when she saw him.  
  
It was Ben and he was lying on the ground. He wasn't moving.  
  
After recovering from her shock she ran to him, kneeling beside his form. She sucked in a sharp breath.  
  
 _No, he can't be..._  
  
Petrified.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_I know who did it._  
  
Hermione was sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall while Headmaster Dippet made his long speech about the two students who had been Petrified. Hermione, however, was focused on the Slytherin table and on one Slytherin in particular.  
  
Dippet droned on and on, pacifying the panic that threatened everybody in the hall. By the time he had finished his very long speech, Hermione was openly fuming. "That's bollocks. He knows exactly what happened to them." she hissed at Weston and instantly regretted it when his tired eyes turned to her. He looked on the verge of tears. She reminded him that Ben would be okay once Madame Sapling had made the Mandrake Draught.  
  
The students were dismissed and they all filed out of the Hall. Hermione watched the back of Tom's head as he left with his group.  _There goes the bloody Heir of Slytherin._  
  
The Gryffindors went back to their common room, which is where Weston left her, heading to his dorm to get some sleep. Unfortunately Hermione still had a Slug Club meeting that night. Slughorn hadn't cancelled it, even though two students had been Petrified. In fact he had been excitedly chatting about it with Hermione that day in Potions. Although she hadn't been able to concentrate at all. She had been too busy trying to stop herself from strangling Riddle then and there.  
  
She got ready quickly, wearing dark blue robes she thought would be more appropriate than brightly coloured ones. The meeting was a formal affair, more of a party really. Which made Hermione feel even worse for going. There shouldn't be a celebration today of all days.  
  
When she was ready she left the dorm with another girl, Alexa Jagmetti, who chatted with her politely on their way to Slughorn's party. Alexa had blonde curls that fell just past her shoulders and her eyes were a bright blue. Freckles were scattered along her face and arms and her lower row of teeth were a little crooked, but she was very pretty. Alexa wore a red dress that emphasised her curves and her skin tone. Hermione had seen Weston looking at her once in a while, he liked her it seemed and she was nice. Hermione thought they could be friends.  
  
The door to the classroom they had decorated for the party was open and a warm yellow light illuminated the corridor outside. Hermione and Alexa walked inside and while Alexa gushed about how lovely the decorations were, Hermione's eyes found the Slytherins in the room. Although she kept her eyes on one only.  
  
Tom was wearing black robes with a dark emerald bow tie. He had parted his wavy hair to one side and stood with his hands in his pockets. He was the most handsome man in the room. Even the light did him favours. His skin looked less pale and his jawline was strong and straight. Hermione looked away when Alexa turned to her with a smile.  
  
"Do you want to get something to drink?" she asked and Hermione nodded. The two girls moved to the table where the drinks were. Alexa poured them a glass of water each. "What do you think of the party? Are you going to-" Alexa was cut off by Slughorn's loud voice. "DeLuca! Jagmetti! Good to see you both here, girls. And good to see you both making friends, hm!" he smiled his strange smile and wrinkled his nose. "But you two should mingle with the other houses. There are plenty here." he wagged his finger at us both and Alexa smiled. "Jagmetti, have you met Mr. Colt? He's in Hufflepuff, I believe. Very gifted in Transfiguration. Dumbledore's favourite, I'm sure." Slughorn smiled and pointed Colt out to her.  
  
Hermione watched Alexa leave, weaving her way gracefully through the guests to chat to Colt. Slughorn turned on her next, "And you DeLuca would do well with Mr. Malfoy." Hermione blinked and shook her head before she could stop herself. "Now, now. Give him a chance. He may be a Slytherin, but I encourage inter-house relations." he smiled at her before catching sight of another student. "Althea!" he called and left Hermione to approach Abraxas Malfoy.  
  
He was across the room, beside Riddle.  _He seemed nice enough the one time you spoke to him._ She took a breath and made her way over there, drink in hand. She noticed Riddle watching her approach. He took his hands from his pockets and when she was a few feet from them, opened his mouth to speak.   
  
Hermione turned to Malfoy, cutting him off. "Hello." she greeted. Abraxas blinked and smiled. "Miss DeLuca. Good to see you again." he said. Hermione relaxed at his warm welcome and explained herself. "Professor Slughorn is partnering people up. He's an advocate for inter-house relations." she smiled and Abraxas laughed. It was surprisingly warm. They were both distracted by Slughorn's loud voice calling for some music.   
  
"Ah. His plan is for us to dance, I think." Abraxas said and looked to her drink. He took it from her gently and set it aside before offering her his arm. Hermione was surprised at his formality, then remembered she was living in the past and things were different here. "Shall we placate him and dance, Hermione?" Abraxas asked.  
  
She nodded and took his arm. He led her out to the dance floor and they began to dance. Soon they began talking. Hermione remembered Viktor Krum and thought that Abraxas Malfoy was a more interesting dance partner. She paid no mind to Riddle the rest of the night and did not notice his stare.  
  
When the party ended and Abraxas walked her and Alexa back to the Gryffindor common room she felt like she really had made a good friend that night.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
_Someone had to pay._  
  
Tom Riddle stayed back after Slughorn's party, but was distracted by his thoughts. And his anger.  
  
He knew he had ordered Malfoy to watch the girl, but he hadn't asked him to dance with her. And DeLuca hadn't even looked at him. Not even a glance! And he had Petrified her friend!  
  
 _Should have killed him instead..._  
  
He had to do more. He had to make them both pay. And he would.


	10. Chapter 10

Abraxas sat next to Hermione on the far bank of the Great Lake. She watched the Giant Squid glide under the dark surface of the water and pulled her coat tighter around herself. It was getting colder outside, winter was on it's way.  
  
"Hermione?" Abraxas asked, his fingers pulling at the grass near his foot. "Do you fancy anyone?"  
  
Hermione's eyes widened and then she began to frown, opening her mouth to chide him. He sat up straighter, "I mean!" he exclaimed, cutting her off. "I mean. Do you fancy... Riddle?" he looked at her and she couldn't help but voice her confusion.  
  
"Why are you asking me this?"  
  
Abraxas smiled and shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't have a particular reason." Hermione eyed him curiously and shook her head, "No, I don't fancy Tom Riddle."   
  
 _I don't. I can appreciate his handsomeness. But no. I could never fancy someone like Tom Riddle._  
  
"That's good." he said and Hermione looked at him. She was surprised to see how serious his face was. "He's dangerous. Keep away from him." Abraxas whispered, eyes flicking to look at her. Hermione looked back at the Giant Squid.  
  
"I know and I will." she replied.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

" _Mactabilis Proditus_ " The muffled voice outside spoke. Tom recognised it instantly.  
  
The portrait swung open and Malfoy entered the Slytherin common room. He spotted Tom where he was stretched out on the black leather two seat sofa with a book in his hand, his other hand was thrown across the back of the sofa. Malfoy walked past him toward the stairs to his dormitory and greeted him quickly. "Riddle."  
  
"Malfoy." Tom looked to his book until Malfoy was past him and then spoke again. "Malfoy. Come here."   
  
Malfoy grit his teeth and turned, walking back to face Tom.  
  
He put his book down and looked up at Malfoy with his dark eyes. He shifted as if uncomfortable, but he met Tom's eyes, betraying his true feelings. He wasn't scared of Tom Riddle. Tom smiled at this.  
  
"Avery and Lestrange want to meet you outside the bathroom on the third floor." Tom said, flipping the page of his book and dismissing him. Malfoy turned to go, but he spoke again.   
  
"Malfoy. Don't be late and keep your eyes peeled." he said, eyes on the book. Malfoy frowned and left, making his way towards the third floor bathroom as he was instructed, despite it being a girl's bathroom. When he approached the bathroom he couldn't see Avery or Lestrange anywhere, so he decided to go inside to look for them. He pushed open the door, glad to find the bathroom empty. Malfoy called their names, eyes searching the room for the two boys.  
  
Abraxas caught sight of two big yellow eyes instead. The eyes of a snake.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
The news of Abraxas Malfoy's Petrification spread across the school like wildfire. Hermione had been working on her Defence Against the Dark Arts homework when she'd heard it from Weston. "I wonder who's behind it. Or what. I heard some kids from Ravenclaw talking about a Chamber of something." he whispered to her. Hermione, however, was beside herself with fury.  
  
She excused herself and reassured Weston everything was fine before leaving the common room. Without really thinking she found herself in the dungeon corridors looking for the Slytherin common room and for a confrontation with the Heir of Slytherin. However, Tom found her instead.  
  
"How dare you." Hermione hissed once she came to a halt in front of him. "Excuse me?" Tom replied cooly, amusement in his expression. "I know you're behind this. If you don't stop I'm going tell the whole school you're Heir of Slytherin and behind all the-" Riddle shot forward, grabbed Hermione's arm, twisting her around till he had her back against his chest. He clamped his hand down over her mouth to shut her up.  
  
"Quiet." he snapped, pulling her into a dark, deserted classroom and spinning her away from him. Suddenly, his wand was in his hand and he locked the door with an easy flick and a silent spell. Hermione straightened and immediately the gravity of the situation made her take out her own wand.   
  
"I know you're filth, DeLuca. Mudblood filth." he snarled, eyeing her with disgust. "It was too easy really. Malfoy had his connections and he used them. There was no record of a pureblood family with the name DeLuca.  That makes you filthy blood. I figured you must be the worst of them. A Mudblood." Riddle sneered. Hermione felt the hurt of Abraxas' betrayal, but knew she should have known better than to trust him.  
  
"Don't call me that." she spat. "It doesn't matter what my blood status is. You're not pureblood either." she said. His face darkened and he strode forward, backing her up against the wall. "Shut up." he snarled, hand tightening on his wand. Hermione did the same and looked up at him, voice firm, "I know more about you than you know about me, Riddle. If I were to let your secrets slip I'm sure the consequences would be very unpleasant for you."   
  
His wand came up in a flash and the tip pressed against her throat. "I'll just have to make sure you don't speak." he trailed the tip of his wand down to her collarbone and then back up, seeming to be in thought. Hermione tensed and brought her wand up, pressing the tip to his chest. Riddle tensed, eyed flicking down at it and then back up to her. "What are you planning to do with that, DeLuca?" he asked. Hermione shrugged, "Whatever I have to. But you can be sure I won't be the first to strike." she said.  
  
"I will." he said quickly, "But not here and not now. I told you to be wary, DeLuca." Tom stepped back and tucked his wand into his pocket. He eyed her as she stepped around him towards the door, keeping her wand in her hand.  
  
"Maybe I'm not the only one who should be wary, Riddle." Hermione said and quickly left the room, chiding herself for her recklessness which had gained her the full focused wrath of Tom Riddle.


	11. Chapter 11

"Hey Weston." Hermione smiled at him while the Gryffindor and Slytherin Sixth Years waited outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom to be let in. He had an arm around Alexa Jagmetti's shoulders and she smiled at Hermione.  
  
"Hey 'Mione! Long time no see." Weston grinned. He'd been doing better since Ben's Petrification. He still missed his best friend, but he knew Ben would be back soon. Professor Samuels, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher opened the door and the students were let him. Hermione was aware of Riddle at the back of the group.  
  
She walked in and sat at her shared desk with Gabriel Kingston, a well built, curly, brown haired boy with grey eyes. His girlfriend, Sadie Brians had been keeping a close eye on him ever since Professor Samuels announced the seating arrangement. Hermione glanced back at her and found that she wasn't glaring at her today, instead she was looking at Riddle. Hermione blinked, looking around and finding that many of the girls, and boys, were looking at Riddle. She'd found that a lot of people enjoyed looking at him. Which made her feel a bit better about doing the same.  
  
Riddle. He'd been avoiding her since that confrontation in the dungeons. He knew that Hermione had the upper hand. All he knew about her was that she was a Mudblood. She winced at the memory of the times her blood status had been brought to attention. Professor Samuels roused her from her thoughts as he bustled about his desk. He was lean, mousy hair askew and round glasses a little crooked on his nose. He wore only brown robes and was always seen with a book or two in hand.  
  
Last lesson Hermione had asked Professor Samuels if she would be able to switch duel partners. It was painful work duelling with Kingston, not that he was bad but he only ever cast an  _Expelliarmus_ for everything and never defended himself. Hermione hoped Professor Samuels would let them switch partners.  
  
"Good morning class!" Samuels called to get the students' attention. There was a murmur of 'good morning' about the class and Samuels continued, "Today we will finish with our simple spells practice. But, I feel that we should give you all a chance to duel with others in the class. Let you practice with a different opponent." Hermione smiled and sat up straighter, excited to practice duelling with another student.  
  
He began reading the names of the pairs off of a sheet of parchment. Weston was paired with a scrawny hazel eyed girl called Martha Johns. Kingston was paired with Brians. Professor Samuels continued to read out the names until it was just Hermione left. There was an even number in the class and Hermione looked around to see who would be her partner.  
  
Her eyes found Riddle, whose eyes were already on her as Samuels called, "Ms. DeLuca and Mr. Riddle."  
  
Tom Marvolo Riddle, the future most powerful Dark Wizard in history, was her duelling partner.  
  
And he hated her too.  
  
 _Great. It's like Professor Samuels wants me to be murdered in class._  
  
The students pushed back the desks to the wall and took their places with their new partners in the room.  
  
Riddle soon was standing beside me and he cleared his throat. "Shall we?" he asked. Hermione nodded and stood a few paces away, facing him. She took out her wand and found that Riddle already had.   
  
The other students had already begun their duels around them, so Hermione raised her wand and cast a non-verbal  _Anteoculatia._    
  
Tom recognised the wand movements, raised a shield and cocked an eyebrow. Hermione had stepped closer when she had cast her spell and now Tom stepped forward as well and said, "Is that the best you've got, DeLuca?"  
  
 _Arrogant, insufferable, impertinent little snake._ Hermione fell back into her duelling stance and sent another spell at him.  _Calvorio!_  
  
Tom sidestepped the spell, smirking at her. _Avis!_ A flock of silver birds appeared above Hermione and circled over her head. Oppugno!  The birds shot towards Tom, but he waved his wand and the birds caught fire, turned to ash and fell.  _Cantis!_ He flicked his wand and the spell diverted and crashed into the stone wall behind him.  
  
Hermione frowned and cast another.  _Colloshoo!_ Tom diverted it lazily.  
  
 _Right. Time to get serious._  
  
 _Confringo!_ Tom's eyebrows shot up at the sudden change in spells and in his surprise he was forced to raise a shield. Hermione couldn't help but smile.  
  
He sent a silent curse at her. She recognised it as  _Defodio_  and quickly raised a thick yellow shield.  
  
 _Deprimo!_ Hermione waved her wand and sent it at him. He performed a complicated wand movement and her spell shot back towards me, even more power behind it. She raised her shield but realised it would break through it and supported it with another shield. The spell crashed into the first and then the second and Hermione was safe.  
  
She looked at Riddle, his expression was sour. Hermione wasted no time and sent him a spell.  _Diffindo!_ He parried.  _Duro_. She parried.  _Ebublio!_ He grunted and flicked his wand, sending the curse into the wall.  
  
They continued the duel as such, till Tom sent a dark curse her way.   
  
She didn't recognise it, so she sidestepped it quickly. In her anger she sent one back at him.  _Occidere Ferio!_ He recognised the dark curse heading towards him.Tom looked up in shock, his eyes on her as he raised a thick shield. The shield was four layers thick. Hermione watched as the curse smashed through three and was stopped by the fourth and she smiled again, pleased with herself.  
  
The shock was still evident on his face as he started to send another curse her way. Hermione sent a  _Stupefy_ at him. Tom didn't notice until it hit. But neither did she.  
  
His spell hit her the same time hers hit him. Tom's spell was a modified version of  _Incendio_ and Hermione flew backwards. Fire burnt her clothes and hands. She quickly put it out with a jet of water, but it stung terribly.  
  
Hermione winced and got up, wand still in hand. She walked over to Riddle. He lay on his back on the floor, but he was stirring from her stunning spell. Hermione used  _Diffindo_  and cut his arm. His blood blossomed across the sleeve of his white shirt. Hermione knew it was wrong to cut him when he was down, but she wanted both of them to have scars from their duel. Not just her.  
  
His eyes met hers and he was about to speak when Professor Samuels interrupted them.  
  
"Ms. DeLuca! Mr. Riddle! What is the meaning of this?" he strode over and spotted Hermione's burnt clothes and the red blisters on her skin. He looked to Riddle and noticed the red line of blood on his arm. "I will speak to the both of you in my office after you go straight to the Hospital Wing." he said sternly, shaking his head in his obvious disappointment. Hermione moved to the door, Tom getting up and following after her, his hand over the cut on his arm.   
  
They walked out of the classroom in silence, every pair of eyes on them. After a moment of the two of them walking in silence, Hermione spoke. "We may have gotten carried away." she murmured, looking to him and finding he was already watching her. "We did." he nodded.  
  
There was something strange between them now. Some form of respect. Tom looked at her again and Hermione frowned, "What is it?" Tom nodded to the burn on her hand and forearm. "You'll need a new shirt." he said. Hermione almost scoffed, "I have another. You'll need a new one too." she said, looking to the cut on his arm.  
  
Tom smirked, "You cut me when I was down." he said. "It doesn't seem like something you would do, DeLuca." Hermione shrugged, "I was angry. If I walked away with a scar so should you." Tom let out a grunt of understanding, knowing he would have done the same if their roles had been reversed. Perhaps worse than just a cut.  
  
"You fight well." he said, removing his hand from his arm and wiping the blood on his shirt. He held out his hand to her, eyes unreadable. "Shall we call a truce?"   
  
Hermione stood, stunned, and she stared at him for a moment till he frowned his annoyance and Hermione quickly took his hand, shaking it firmly. "That cut is really bad." she pointed out when the awkward handshake was broken. "Come on, we should get you to the Hospital Wing." Hermione said, walking off. Tom followed and managed a smirk. "Your burn looks worse." he boasted.  
  
Hermione was glad he didn't see her smile.  
  
When they arrived at the Hospital Wing, Madame Emerson, the current nurse ushered us towards two beds and then quickly went to fetch what she needed. Hermione winced as she studied her burn and Tom watched her, hand over his cut.  
  
"Tom." he said, making Hermione look to him in surprise. "What?" He shrugged, a move that on him looked more calculated than it should have. "Call me Tom."  
  
Hermione blinked in shock. "Okay." she murmured. Tom raised a brow, "Are you going to invite me to call you Hermione?" he asked. Hermione was saved a reply by Madame Emerson, who came back over and began to clean his wound efficiently. He winced and hissed through his teeth. "Sorry about the cut." Hermione said, feeling obliged to apologise. "I shouldn't have cut you when you were down." Tom nodded and looked to her. "I would have done it. Perhaps I'm rubbing off on you, DeLuca." he said.   
  
Hermione smiled, "I hope not." Madame Emerson tied off Tom's bandage and he winced again and watched as Hermione was tended to.  
  
When they were both bandaged and sent away Tom turned to her, "So, how will we get out of trouble with Professor Samuels?" he asked. Hermione and Tom brainstormed ideas on the way back to class, but still suffered through a long, angry lecture from Professor Samuels. By the end of it, Tom winked at Hermione and left for his next class, leaving her confused and frightened by the sudden change in him.


	12. Chapter 12

_I didn't plan for this to happen. And yet it was working better than anything I could have thought up. She was my 'friend' now. As if I could be friends with a Mudblood like her._  
  
Tom walked along the fourth floor corridor, sleeves rolled down to hide his bandage. His thoughts turned back to his walk with Hermione to the Infirmary and he furrowed his brow, remembering what had occurred when he had seen Hermione's burns.  
  
Something had come over him when he had seen them. He had felt guilty. Which had made him angry. Ever since Hermione had come here things had been going very wrong. Things he couldn't afford to happen. Not if he was to become the most powerful wizard that ever existed.   
  
And yet, he could use her.  _Maybe she would join me? She would make a powerful ally and she has the potential to be great by my side. She could be mine._ Tom liked that thought a little too much.  _Hermione would be mine._  
  
It was then that he came across the body.  
  
Tom turned the corner and immediately focused on a girl lying on the stone floor. She wasn't moving and his curiosity peaked. When he stepped closer he recognised the body.  
  
 _Hermione is Petrified._  
  
Tom walked to her body, cursing under his breath. He knelt down next to her, spotting the window she had seen the reflection in. Her face was frozen in surprise, her skin ashen. Something in her expression was off, but Tom could not place it. He touched her cheek with his fingertips and sighed.  
  
Frustrated, he slid an arm around the underside of her thighs and his other hand lifted her head up. He slid his hand under her and supported her back. Tom lifted her up and walked quickly towards the Hospital Wing. He shoved the doors open with his back. "Madame Emerson!" he called, "Another petrified."  
  
She came bustling out of a side door. Her auburn hair in a mess as she gestured to a bed to lay her down on. "Quick." Tom nodded and set her down gently on the bed, stepping back to let the nurse look her over.  
  
"Where did you find her, dear?" Madame Emerson asked. "The fourth floor corridor near the Charms classroom." Tom replied, taking a seat in the chair beside the bed. The nurse made a small sound and shook her head. Tom studied Hermione's face and noticed that there was recognition in her features. It only brought him more questions.  
  
It dawned on him when Madame Emerson left, talking about mandrakes.   
  
Hermione DeLuca had seen the basilisk before. She knew who opened the Chamber and she thought Tom had targeted her.  
  
 _My plan is ruined._  
  
Tom left the Infirmary and walked to the Library. He passed by Dumbledore's office on his way and stopped when he heard voices inside.  _He's_   _forgotten the wards._  Tom thought for a moment and then made a decision when he heard mention of Hermione's name. He pressed his ear against the door to listen.  
  
"Maurice, I have told you about the DeLuca girl, haven't I?" Dumbledore asked, speaking to Maurice McGregor, the new bookshop owner in Hogsmeade who had befriended the professor.   
  
"Yes Albus, you have. You told me she is quite remarkable." McGregor replied.   
  
"Yes. Yes she definitely is. Now Maurice. Recently I have found out that when Headmaster Dippet steps down, for whatever reason, I will take his place as Hogwarts' headmaster."   
  
Outside, Tom recoiled in both shock and disgust.  "That's wonderful Albus!" McGregor exclaimed in his low, rough voice. Dumbledore hummed in agreement.  
  
"If you're worried you won't be good at it, Albus, you could always ask De-" "I'm afraid this conversation is no longer private, Maurice." Dumbledore said. Tom heard chairs scrape against the stone floor and he ran.  
  
Tom ran till he had reached the Slytherin common room. He spoke the password, " _Infestus Occulta"_ and entered through the portrait hole. The other students made way as he strode through and leapt up the stairs two at a time. He locked the door of his dormitory behind him and was relieved to find nobody else inside with him. Tom collapsed onto his bed, drew the curtains around it and threw an arm over his eyes.  
  
 _What is Hermione hiding? What are her secrets? And more importantly, how will I learn them?  
_  
Tom hummed as a plan began to form in his head.  
  
 _This could be fun._


	13. Chapter 13

"Mr. Riddle?"  
  
The voice woke Tom up with a start and whipped around to see Madame Emerson standing behind him with a candle. It was dim in the Infirmary, only a few bedside lamps on throughout the room. Madame Emerson spoke again, "You know she won't be waking up any time soon. The mandrake draught will take a day or so till it's ready."  
  
"I know. I just want to be by her side. She's been such a good friend to me." Tom said and rubbed his eyes. Half because he needed to and half because it made him look sweeter. Madam Emerson smiled kindly, "Well, I'll be retiring now. I'll keep the doors open should you want to leave."  
  
"Thank you." Tom replied and she left him alone with Hermione.   _It was easy to manipulate them._  Tom was only here to watch over what was his. Especially when she could be so valuable.  
  
 _How could I be so stupid? Setting the basilisk on her without a second thought. I can't believe I didn't see her value before._  
  
 _I'll have to wait till the draught is ready to put my plan in motion._  
  
Tom sat there for a while, just studying her face, before he settled in the chair and went back to sleep.

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Tom woke up when the sunlight shone in his eyes. He blinked, rubbed his eyes and sat up with a groan. He was grateful it was Saturday so he had no classes to attend. A smell wafted over and he frowned, standing to find out what it was.  
  
Tom spotted Madame Emerson humming away while she stirred something bubbling in a cauldron. She noticed him and turned with a smile, "Good morning dear. Good morning indeed! The mandrake draught doesn't need any more time! Those Petrified will be up and walking around in no time." Her joyful smile forced Tom to return it, despite his mixed feelings on the matter.  
  
Madame Emerson frowned suddenly, which made Tom wonder if his enthusiasm had been lacking. She put her hands on her hips, "Now, go get washed up. You shouldn't have slept in here all night."   
  
"Okay, Madame Emerson. Let me know should you need any help. And when Hermione is awake." Tom gave her a charming smile and said goodbye before leaving the Infirmary.  
  
Tom walked back to his dormitory, in a foul mood. Nobody asked him where he had been, most likely because of the dangerous energy he was giving off as he went up the stairs to his dormitory. He sat gracefully on his bed and picked up the book he always kept on his bedside table.   
  
"My Lord?"  
  
Tom's eyes flicked up to see who had disturbed him. It was Dolohov.  _The fool._  Tom raised a brow and looked back down at his book. "Yes, Hector?" Tom noticed Dolohov wince, but the boy spoke with an even voice, "Have you heard about the girl, my lord?"   
  
 Tom's eyes shot up at him, "What girl?" Dolohov shuffled where he stood and glanced back at the rest of the Knights.   
  
"That Myrtle girl, the Ravenclaw? She was found dead in the girl's bathroom on the third floor."  
  
Tom blinked. He took a moment, closing his book slowly. He set it aside and stood, "Dead, you say?" he murmured.  
  
"Yes, My Lord." Dolohov backed up when Tom stood and lowered his eyes. "Who knows?" Tom spat out suddenly, making all the boys jump.  
  
"The whole school, my lord." Black replied briskly.  
  
Tom began to pace to the door and back. He took out his wand, noticing the tensing of his Knights when they saw it. They needn't have worried, he was far more preoccupied with the development. Tom locked the door with a flick of his wand and returned to his pacing.  
  
 _Myrtle. Dead. The basilisk was doing a marvellous job, but consequences will come with this death. I must lay low, not attract any attention to myself._ Tom looked to his followers and turned to face them.  _This complicates things._  
  
"Myrtle is dead." he said, nodding.  _They can't talk about this._  
  
"Which of you here know, for a fact, who the Heir of Slytherin is?" They looked to the floor and remained silent. "No one? Pity." Tom clicked his tongue and cast an unspoken  _Muffliato._  
  
He chose one at random. Francis Crabbe then proceeded to writhe on the floor for a moment or two.  
  
Tom ended the curse and dismissed him, looking back to the standing Knights. "Does anybody know, now?" Their terror was evident, yet none spoke a word.  
  
"It's you, my lord. Is it not?" Tom frowned, eyes still on the boys in front of him. But they were looking to the door. Tom could recognise that voice anywhere.  
  
Tom turned and saw Abraxas Malfoy standing there, looking paler than ever. Quickly, Tom locked the door behind him then returned his attention to Malfoy.  
  
"Malfoy, good of you to join u-" "Am I right, my lord? You are the Heir of Slytherin." Tom bristled at being cut off and he began to twirl his wand.  
  
"You're confident that I'm the heir? Nobody else you would consider?" Tom asked.  
  
"Yes. I know you are the heir." Malfoy said, seriously. He had forced Tom to take action. But it was Malfoy's next words that decided his fate.  
  
"Because you were so insanely jealous that I was dancing with the Mudblood. You set the basilisk on me. You would have killed me like you killed Myrtle if you knew that when I said goodnight she kissed me. She's been all over me the moment she saw-" He was cut off by his scream as Tom turned his wrath on him. His knuckles white with how hard he was holding his wand.  
  
The boys behind Tom winced, watching Abraxas scream and struggle against the curse.   
  
 _He had tainted what was mine. He had to pay. This is how he'll pay._  
  
 _I need to find Hermione._  
  
Tom stopped the curse and took a moment to catch his breath and compose himself. "Do not go near Hermione DeLuca again. Or you will be severely punished." he spat out.  
  
Tom looked back to his other knights, "Not a word of this or you will join Malfoy." he said. Tom stepped over Abraxas Malfoy's limp form on his way to the door.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
It was already late afternoon when Tom found her. She was in the Library, which didn't surprise him in the slightest.  
  
At the sight of her alive and moving he smiled, heading over to her talk to her without a moments hesitation. He tapped her on the shoulder and she jumped and turned. When she saw him she took a step back and crossed her arms."What do you want?" she hissed.  
  
"Glad to see you're already up and ready to catch up on the work you missed." Tom smiled, leaning toward her, his arms crossed over his chest. Hermione blinked and took a step back, but found she was between him and the bookshelf. Tom smiled.  
  
"Come now Hermione-" "Don't call me that, Riddle."   
  
Tom grinned, "That's a relief. It was too long a name anyway. Your Muggle parents really were silly to name you as such."    
  
"Shut up about my parents. It's not like yours are any better." Hermione snapped and put her hand on his chest, pushing him back. Tom took a step back, but was scowling.  
  
"Don't you dare speak a word about them." Tom hissed and the image of Abraxas and Hermione kissing filled his mind. Tom grabbed her wrist. Hermione jerked back, trying to pull it from him. "Don't touch me." she snapped.  
  
He yanked her close to him, looking down at her angrily. "You're mine." he growled out, other hand gripping her upper arm. Hermione looked up at him, shock in her eyes. "What? What the hell are you talking about?" she struggled against his grip and he tightened it.   
  
Hermione winced and that was enough to bring Tom back to his senses. He released her, but kept her trapped by his larger frame. "What are you hiding, Hermione?" he demanded, eyes searching her face. "You know I will find out soon enough. Save yourself the trouble and just tell me now."  
  
Hermione frowned up at him and tried to shove him back again, but he caught her hand and pinned it to his chest. "Hermione..." his voice lowered in a purr and he could see the change in her. Hermione's eyes widened and her lips parted in surprise. She didn't know what he was doing.  
  
Tom smiled and lifted his hand, brushing back a strand of her hair before she could stop him. Hermione, however, snapped out of her shock and shoved him back hard.  
  
Tom fell against the shelf behind him and let out a bark of laughter. "You don't know who you're messing with, DeLuca." he sneered. Hermione fisted her hands, her composure returned. "No. You don't know who you're messing with." she snarled. "You may be able to scare those little followers of yours, but you won't scare me." she spat, venom in every word.  
  
Tom grinned, "I already do scare you, DeLuca." He watched her walk away and straightened, running a hand through his hair. "I scare you in more ways than one." he called after her.  
  
Hermione tried her best to ignore the truth of his words.


	14. Chapter 14

"Hey Ben." Hermione greeted when she entered the Gryffindor common room. Ben took the chance to leave his group of admirers who were hassling him with questions about how he had been Petrified. "Oh, hi there 'Mione!" he got up to the groups annoyance and stood with her. "I heard you found me. When I was.. you know. And I heard you were too." he said, scratching the back of his head. "I was, but I'm alright now. Everything is back to normal."  
  
 _No, it's not.  
  
"_ Yeah! Um, hey. Have you heard? June Kim and Regina Davids, the Ravenclaw girls are throwing a party tonight and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me?" Ben smiled sheepishly and Hermione shrugged, "Sure."  
  
Ben grinned, "Great! Yeah, good. Um... It starts at seven, so we can meet down here at six forty-five, alright?"   
  
Hermione nodded and said goodbye before she headed up to her dormitory. She closed the door behind her and smiled to a few of the girls there as she moved to her bed to read a little of the books she had borrowed from the library.  _Maybe it wasn't wise to have agreed to go tonight with Ben. I don't want to encourage him if it's true he fancies me. I'll just transfigure some robes for it. I wonder if Riddle will be there._  
  
Hermione frowned at her own thoughts and shoved them aside, distracting herself with her book. But even reading offered her no escape from her troubling thoughts.   
  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
 _I was in the Transfiguration classroom talking to Professor Dumbledore. For some reason he was the older Dumbledore, the one I knew the best.  
  
"Yes Professor. I know. I'm trying, I swear."  
  
Dumbledore's gaze pierced me. "Mr. Riddle is a dangerous boy. I want you to be safe, Hermione. Please try harder to keep your distance from him. Your being a time traveller is already a risk. If Tom Riddle were to find out, he would use you for his own means."  I nodded my understanding, but turned my heard when I heard a soft shuffle coming from behind me. Something was wrong.  
  
"I'm off." Dumbledore sighed and stood, eyeing her over his half-moos glasses. "I will see you next lesson Ms. DeLuca." Dumbledore started for the door, but as he passed me he spoke again, "Be safe." With that he was gone. I turned around and eyed the corner of the classroom which was cast in shadow._  
  
 _"Come out. I know you're in here!"  
  
Silence. Maybe I was just being paranoid. I started towards the door when I heard the low laughter resonate around the classroom.  
  
"Why am I not surprised?" I whirled around. Tom stepped out of the shadows, an eerie grin on his face. Something was wrong with his face. His skin had a glow to it and he seemed to be in black and white. In fact, the whole scene was black and white.  
  
Tom shook his head, amused. "A time traveller. Why dear, sweet DeLuca. You've been keeping big secrets." He stepped closer and I took a step back, frightened. "If I had known the things you were hiding were this interesting. Well... I would've taken more drastic measures to get you to spill them."  
  
He was very close now, so close that I could feel his breath on my cheeks. "Is Hermione DeLuca your real name? What's it like in the future? Hmm? Not going to clam up now are you, Mudblood?" At that his face twisted into a snarl and he grasped my neck. Tom _ _shoved me back against the wall and trapped me with his body.  
  
His face was inches from mine and his eyes shone red. I struggled to get away, but he only tightened his grip and his fingers dug into my flesh. I winced, but this time he did not release me.  
  
"Tell me your name." he demanded. I shook my head and he grinned. I watched his lips curl and he noticed where my eyes had travelled to. Tom wet his lips with his tongue. "Do you want me to _ make _you tell me?" he asked and put his hands on the wall on either side of my head. He pressed his body to mind and  I shuddered._  
  
 _Without a warning his lips came down on mine viciously. I tried to push him back, but he gripped my wrists and stopped me. Tom moved his lips against mine with a passion. He transferred my wrists to one hand and his free hand settled behind my neck to hold my head in place. I had stopped struggling, I realised, but before I could start again he wrapped an arm around my waist and tugged me closer to him. He tasted sweet when he parted his lips, which was strange because he was Voldemort. No. Tom Riddle. This boy here was Tom Riddle.  
  
I broke the kiss with a punch to his jaw._  
  
 _Tom grunted and held his jaw between his fingers, working it and letting out a low chuckle. "What's your name, sweetheart?" Why resist? What harm would it do?  
  
"Hermione Granger." I replied. Tom smiled, a genuine smile. "Hermione Granger." he murmured and my hair rose. "Lovely name."  
  
His eyes flashed that familiar red and quick as lightning, he had pulled out his wand. "Now I know exactly who I'm going to kill."  
  
I tried to run, make a grab for his wand. I screamed for help. But it was too late._  
  
 _"Avada Kedavra!" A flash of green and then there was darkness._  
  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Hermione woke up with a start and struggled to catch her breath. She noticed that there was sweat beaded on her forehead and she wiped it away roughly.  _What the hell was that?_  
  
Hermione sat up and rubbed her eyes, glancing at the time. 5:30pm. She got up and picked out an emerald robe from her closet. After many tries she managed to transfigure it into a simple dress with a hem below her knees and sleeves long enough to hide the scar Bellatrix had given her in Malfoy Manor.  
  
Hermione washed her face and got ready. She paired the robes with a simple pearl necklace and matching earrings. When she was ready she went downstairs to meet Ben.  
  
As she went downstairs she spotted Ben talking with Weston in the corner of the common room. Weston noticed her and said something to Ben, who turned, smiled and stepped forward to meet her at the bottom of the steps.  
  
"Wow 'Mione." he said, scratching the back of his neck nervously, "You look really nice." Hermione smiled her thanks for the compliment and the two walked to where Weston and his date waited. Ella Silver, a Ravenclaw Fifth Year dressed in a silver dress, to match her name.   
  
"Hi Hermione." Ella said when they four of them left for the Ravenclaw common room. Hermione smiled back, "Hi Ella."  
  
The Ravenclaw common room was located in Ravenclaw Tower in the west wing of the castle. They made their way there and went up two staircases to the Fifth floor. At the top of a spiral staircase was a carved, wooden door. A single bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle sat in the middle of the door. As we approached it turned it's head to face us and watched us with its sapphire eyes.  
  
" _Which came first, the phoenix or the flame?_ "  
  
Ella smiled to the others and stepped forward, explaining to Weston, who looked confused. "We must answer the riddle in order to enter." Ella faced the door and spoke, "A circle has no beginning."

The knocker became still once more and a bronze doorknob materialised on the door. Weston grinned and draped his arm over Ella's shoulder. "I'm starting to think that every girl I meet is a genius." he said and Ella laughed. Ben stepped forward and opened the door, letting Hermione in first and then Weston and Ella. He reappeared by Hermione's side as the four were greeted with loud music.  
  
 _It's the 1940's. No techno or disco here..._  
  
In the middle of the room people danced on a marble dance floor and at the end of the room there was a long buffet table with assorted cakes and drinks.  
  
Hermione's eyes scanned the room involuntarily as Ben led her through the groups of people to meet some of his friends.  _Stop it Hermione. Why would Tom Riddle be at a Ravenclaw party?_    
  
"Are you feeling alright 'Mione? You look a little pale." Hermione shook herself from her thoughts and nodded to Ben, who had asked her the question. The young Ravenclaw couple he had been talking to looked at me and the girl wrinkled her nose unpleasantly. Hermione recognized them as Head Boy and Girl of Ravenclaw, Opal Chase and Lionel Richards.  
  
"My, my Ben. You're right, she does look a little pale." Richards stated, not bothering to address Hermione himself. Opal looked apologetic, but with her nerves frayed already Hermione snapped, "Yes, maybe she's pale because of the charming company?" Ben blinked and Hermione looked to him, regretting her harsh words already.  
  
"I think I need some fresh air." Hermione mumbled and moved towards the door, leaving Richards to whisper angrily to Opal and Ben watching her go.  
  
Once she was outside she took a deep breath and decided to head back to Gryffindor common room. She'd apologise to Ben later and tell him she hadn't been feeling well. Hermione made her way back down the spiral staircase to the Gryffindor common room.  
  
She was nearing the Fat Lady when a pale hand shot out of a classroom door, grabbed her arm and yanked her inside.  
  
Hermione let out a yelp of surprise, but found a cold hand clamped over her mouth. She felt hot breath against her ear and a lean, hard body press up against her back. Hermione struggled roughly, trying to bite his hand. She had noticed it was a male body, because of the flat chest and muscled arm around her waist.   
  
Hermione kicked her leg back and felt it connect with a knee. There was a grunt near her ear and the boy released her. She heard a hissed curse and blinked, recognising the voice. She was certain who it was when he spoke again.  
  
"Miss me?"


	15. Chapter 15

"Abraxas?" Hermione whispered once his hand had released her. She turned to face him, frowning deeply until she caught sight of his face. He was very pale and he looked tired and defeated. His eyes were dull and beneath them his skin was ashy and almost grey. Abraxas shifted his arm and Hermione saw him grimace in pain.  
  
"You know if you wanted to talk to me, you didn't have to scare me like this." Hermione said, making sure there was a safe distance between them. Abraxas winced again and Hermione frowned, "What did Riddle do to you?"  
  
Abraxas cringed and stepped back, eyes angry all of a sudden. "Nothing I couldn't handle."  
  
"Abraxas? What's wrong?" Hermione asked, taking a step forward. She stopped where she stood when he looked up at her, eyes angry.  
  
"Don't call me that, DeLuca." he spat. Hermione took a step backwards, confused and shocked at his sudden change in demeanour. "I can't believe I ever spent time with a Mudblood like you." he sneered.  
  
Hermione sucked in a sharp breath involuntarily and took another step back. He eyed her and grabbed her arm roughly. It was Hermione's turn to wince in pain.  
  
"Riddle is after you. He wants you. I don't know why and I don't care. But if you don't give him what he wants, I will make you." his pale eyes were slits now and his face shadowed in the dim light of the classroom. He squeezed her arm painfully and Hermione yanked it out of his grip. He used her momentum to shove her back and she stumbled into the door. The two of them stood a few feet apart, watching one another.   
  
"Understand?" Malfoy asked and Hermione nodded quickly, struggling to keep her tongue behind her teeth.  
  
"Good. Stay out of my way Mudblood." he strode to the door, but Hermione blocked his way. "I may be a Mudblood. But at least I don't betray my friends, Malfoy." she said sharply and turned her back to him, leaving the room quickly.  
  
It was only in the safety of her bed in her dorm where Malfoy's betrayal finally took it's toll and she allowed herself to shed a few tears for her lost friend.  
  
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Hermione woke from her nightmares once again. She had been having nightmares too often, always about her friends deaths or the war. Sometimes about Riddle.  
  
She had fallen asleep while reading and now she closed the book that laid open on her bed. She noticed she was still wearing her gown from last night as well and she put her book away, getting up to get dressed for the day.  
  
A half hour later Hermione was done and she grabbed her book bag before she headed downstairs.  
  
The common room was empty, like it usually was on Sunday mornings, since everybody was sleeping in. Hermione felt guilty for how glad she was that she didn't have to face Ben so soon after last night's fiasco. She left through the portrait hole and made her way down to the lake.  
  
The water shimmered in the morning sunlight, but there was an incessant chill in the air that would only get worse the closer it got to Christmas. Hermione sat by the Lake and took out the book she was currently reading. This one was no better than the others. There was nothing she had found about traveling forward in time.  
  
But she needed something to do otherwise she'd dwell on things that were difficult to think about.  _Did Malfoy actually mean that much to me? So much so, that I would react so badly when his inevitable betrayal finally came? You should have known, Granger._ Hermione frowned and turned back to her book before she began to think too hard about Malfoy.  
  
She turned the page of the book, frowned deeper and flipped the page back over. On the page were the words she had been looking for, 'traveling forward in time'.  Hermione read on, searching for some elaboration, but it ended there.  
  
With a sigh she closed the book and read the author's name, "Francis Walker." she mumbled.  
  
"Hey 'Mione!"  
  
Hermione jumped and turned around to see Weston behind her. He plopped down in the grass beside her and grinned. Hermione spotted Ben standing just behind Weston, looking vaguely uncomfortable.  
  
"Hi Weston. Hey Ben." Hermione smiled at them both and slipped the book into her bag before they could read the title. "I was just about to go inside." she stood up and meet Ben's eyes, smiling apologetically.  
  
Ben managed a smile back and Hermione relaxed, assuming he'd forgiven her for her behaviour the night before. "Great idea," Weston nodded, "It's ridiculously chilly out here. Nobody should be outside when the weather is like this. Especially when it's so early in the morning." Weston shot up beside them and gave Ben a wink. Then they were both racing across the grounds, Weston grabbing Ben's shirt and Ben shaking him off. Hermione heard Ben yell, 'See ya at the entrance!" and Weston respond with, "Last one there is a bubbling puddle os Stinksap!" Hermione laughed and followed after them at a brisk walk.  
  
She saw Ben and Weston leaning against the stone wall just inside the entrance of the castle when she arrived. "Finally!" Weston teased, trying to conceal his pants. Hermione grinned, "Who won?" she asked and Ben smiled, looking across at Weston who grumbled, "I'm hungry. Who's hungry?" Weston led the way to breakfast as Ben and Hermione followed, talking about the latest Potions homework.  
  
The conversation had travelled to the Transfiguration essay when Hermione tripped over Malfoy's extended leg.  
  
Her anger dissipated, however, when she noticed whose arms had caught her from landing face first on the stone floor. Hermione looked up, flustered and recognised the pair of ebony eyes looking back at her. Riddle stood there, one hand holding her forearm, the other on her waist. Hermione was vaguely aware that she was practically cutting off the blood circulation to his arm, but she was too mortified to move. While she gathered her thoughts she noticed a difference in Riddle's face.  
  
His mouth was open and he was staring at her with an uneasy intensity. He didn't break the stare when he finally spoke, although he seemed to be searching for his words. Hermione bit her lip, anticipating a scathing remark, but the words that came out of his mouth surprised her.  
  
"I need that arm." he said, nodding gently towards his right arm that she still had in a death grip. Hermione, to her horror, blushed and released his arm, taking a step back so they were no longer touching. She noticed his hand lingered at her waist a second longer than was necessary. She fumbled for a response, distracted by the knowledge that for such a cold person his body was strangely warm. And it had left her even colder in the already chilly air.  
  
"I just tripped. Thank you for... that." she nodded, adjusting the strap of her book bag on her shoulder, before she turned away and rejoined Ben and Weston. Ben was eyeing Riddle coldly, whereas Weston looked very confused.  _It's probably too early in the morning for him to think._  
  
Luckily, both boys didn't mention anything about the encounter and Hermione was grateful for it. As they continued on their way to the Gryffindor table, Hermione glanced back at Riddle briefly and caught sight of him staring after me. The look on his face both worried and confused her. She had seen that look many times before since she had that same look whenever she was thinking about something important. Hermione turned back around, her worry growing.  _Riddle is dangerous. I know that._  
  
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Tom was angry. And what was worse is there was only one person he could take his anger out on. Himself.  
  
But that wasn't an option, so he chose the next best thing. DeLuca. And he would get to her soon enough. But right now he needed somebody. Anybody he could blame for this compromising incident.  
  
Tom cast his eyes about the common room, where he was lounging on a black leather armchair. His gaze immediately fell on his knights. One in particular.  _Malfoy. Hadn't he tripped her?_ Tom pictured his lean body writhing on the floor, at the mercy of his torture curse.   
  
But the image put him off and he turned his gaze back to his book.  _This was different. Why? Because of that damn girl, that's why! Why did she bother me so?_ _How does she have so much control over you, Riddle? And why do you let her? You are Tom Marvolo Riddle, the Heir of Slytherin. You do not succumb to a silly little Mudblood. There are much better things to do. Why waste your time on her?_  
  
Tom frowned, turning the page of his book, although he wasn't reading the words.  
  
 _She knows something. I can tell. Something important. Not only that, but she challenged me. I can't let that go unanswered. There's something about her and she needs to be taken care of. Once and for all. The only thing that's stopping me, are the secrets she holds. Only after I know them can I dispose of her and then I can get on with my plan._  
  
Tom was satisfied with the conclusion he had reached and he stood up, heading upstairs to put on a coat. It was time to start preparing for what would come later. He stuffed a few galleons he had saved up in his pocket and went back downstairs, through the common room to the portrait hole.  
  
"Hey, Riddle!" Tom heard a voice call from behind him. He plastered a polite smile across his face and turned around. There stood Jessamine Adams, a girl with enough gall to flirt with him- to his chagrin. She ran a hand through her black hair and gave him a dazzling smile. "Hello there, Tom." He bristled slightly at her daring to call him by his first name, but let it slide. She was a pretty thing and he admired her bravery.  
  
"Good day, Adams." he replied, giving her a charming smile in return. She stepped closer, placing a dainty hand on his arm. "Oh, please Tom. It's alright if you call me Jessamine. Or even Jess! Adams, it's just so formal."   
  
Tom stepped back towards the portrait hole and her hand fell from his arm."Oh, but I couldn't possibly. I'm a gentleman, Adams." he responded, keeping his face polite. She opened her mouth to protest, but he was growing bored of their flirting and so he did something he knew would shut her up. Tom placed a finger gently against her lips and watched her hazel eyes widen in both surprise and joy.  _It is so easy._    
  
"I must go. It was lovely talking to you, Jessamine." With that, Tom left through the portrait hole swiftly and strode down the corridor of the dungeons.  
  
Once he had left the campus, he quickened his pace. He didn't want anybody he knew to see him. It would risk suspicion and uncomfortable questions. Soon, he reached the detestable village of Hogsmeade. He disliked the place and found it boring, but his business was here today.  
  
Tom strode through the village, until he found the empty side street his knights had spoken of. He slipped down it, drawing little attention from passerby. Luckily, the shop he was looking for wasn't too far down the alleyway. It wasn't a very popular place and the owner was quite a shady man, even though he sold the most harmless things. Though of course in Tom's hands you couldn't call a lot of things harmless.  
  
Tom heard a chime sound as he pushed open the door to the shop and walked up to the dusty counter. He tapped the bell on the counter and removed his gloves by pulling it off with his teeth. His eyes surveyed the place and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. Another reason nobody comes here. The guy doesn't know anything about cleanliness. Tom sighed impatiently and tapped the bell again.  
  
"I'm comin'! God, Martha! Why d'ya always haff to distarb me while I'm restin'!" A fat man, with a grubby beard and similarly dirty clothes limped out of the back room, bringing with him the stink of moth balls. "You ain't Martha." he said, sniffing as he leaned over the counter, his black eyes scrutinising.  
  
"Very well spotted." Tom replied dryly and the man sniffed again, rubbing his nose. "Well, whaddya want then?"   
  
"I wish to purchase one of your items on sale." Tom said, pointing to what he wanted on the shelf behind the counter. The man's beady eyes widened and his mouth opened and closed like a fish for a moment. Tom sighed, "I haven't got all day." The man nodded and that got him working. Tom noticed his reaction hinted that business had been slow.  
  
The shopkeeper dragged up a grimy looking footstool and eyed Tom as he took down the item from the shelf. "Yer from that school, ain't yer? 'Ogwarts?" Tom nodded. "Righ'," he sniffed again, climbing down and moving back to the counter. "Wha d'ya want on it then?"   
  
Tom frowned, already taking out his galleons. "What do you mean?"  The man eyed his pocket with a glimmer in his eye. "D'ya want it engraved or not?" Tom glared at him, but gave him a curt nod in response.  
  
The shopkeeper took out a stencil and a small fin tipped scalpel. "Ya gonna tell me wha' it is?" he asked.  
  
"Tom." The man set the letters on the leather and carved it in with a surprisingly steady hand. "Marvolo."   
  
"How'd yer spell tha'?" Tom remembered that this man was probably uneducated and sighed. "M-A-R-V-O-L-O." he spelled out. The man nodded and carved that in.   
  
"Riddle." Tom finished and the man did the same with those letters. "Tha' will be eigh'een galleons an' six sickles." the man said, setting the scalpel down and brushing off the engraving with a bandaged hand. Tom set the money on the counter and he handed him the diary.  
  
Tom flipped it over in my hands, caressing the black leather and admiring the neat engraving on the bottom. _What delightful plans I had for this._


	16. Chapter 16

Hermione was late. And on the last day of the semester too. She cursed under her breath when the pile of books on her mattress toppled. She quickly stacked them beneath her bedside table, but packed one or two in her bulging suitcase.  
  
"Finally." she sighed when her luggage clicked shut. She grabbed her coat and boots, sitting on the edge of the bed to force the boots on her feet quickly. Without a backward glance she picked up her suitcase and ran down the stairs. She said a few last minute goodbyes as she walked out of the common room and towards the entrance hall where the carriages were slowly leaving for the train.  
  
Hermione set her luggage down when she got to the Entrance Hall and she noticed Riddle standing near the steps with Dumbledore. Her eyes moved down Riddle's form to the luggage at his feet. Her brows rose.  _Riddle stays at an orphanage. Dumbledore's sending him back for Christmas?_  
  
"Ma-ma-mione!" Weston called from the doors, waving her over impatiently. Riddle looked from Dumbledore to Weston and then to her. Hermione averted her eyes and brought her luggage over to wait with Weston and Ben for a carriage. "You're late again? Gosh, do you only come early for classes and everything else just isn't as important?" Weston grinned at Hermione's eye-roll.  
  
"No, this time it's your fault. You kept me out so late, I had no time to pack." she said, crossing her arms over her chest pointedly.  
  
"Typical 'Mini, just stuff a handful of clothes in there and it's D-O-N-E." Weston said, punctuating every letter in 'done' with a click of his fingers. Hermione scowled at the nickname and lightly smacked his hand out of the air. "Is that why you always wear the ugliest clothes, Westie?"  
  
He wrinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue, but he was saved a reply by the last carriage pulling up for them. Hermione helped load up her suitcase and noticed Riddle making his way over to the doors, Dumbledore watching him go.  
  
"Come on, 'Mione." Ben called from inside the carriage, but Hermione was rooted to the spot. We were the last ones there except two young Second Year Hufflepuffs.  
  
One carriage left. Six seats in the carriage. Six people and one of them was Riddle.  
  
He seemed to realise this just as she did and after he swung his luggage up onto the back of the carriage he opened the door for her. Hermione recovered and gave him an awkward nod of thanks as she climbed into the carriage, seating herself next to Ben. Riddle climbed in after her, leaving the door open for the two Hufflepuff boys who sat in the corner and exchanged addresses for the holidays.   
  
The carriage started up towards Hogsmeade and the journey was silent, except for the soft chatter of the two Second Years in the corner. Riddle sat beside Weston, who grinned at Hermione when he saw her looking pointedly away from Riddle. Hermione shot Weston an angry look, but of course, being Weston, he had to say something.   
  
"So Riddle," he began, not looking at Riddle as he spoke, but at Hermione. She scowled angrily, but Weston grinned wider and Riddle turned his polite attention to him.  
  
"Have a good holiday." Weston said, looking to Riddle finally. Luckily, the carriage was pulling into the station. Riddle smirked and before we clambered out, he replied, "Same to you, Potter. Weasley." Then his eyes turned to Hermione and he smiled, "DeLuca."  
  
Ben climbed out first and helped take down the luggage. Riddle helped him, but Weston stood by and waited with Hermione. She had turned to the thestrals pulling the carriage and was lost in memories. "Come on, we'll be late if we dawdle." Ben said, shaking Hermione from her thoughts. She smiled, picking up her luggage and when she stood up she noticed Riddle watching her still.  
  
"Have a good holiday." she said to him quickly before Weston tugged her away towards the train. He watched her go and then followed behind to the back of the train where the Slytherins sat.  
  
After making sure our luggage was with the porter, Ben, Weston and Hermione scoured the train for an empty compartment. In the end they had to share one with Weston's ex, Agnes Brown. Ben and Hermione spent the train ride laughing quietly at Weston who was looking very uncomfortable under Agnes' stern glare.  
  
Apparently, things did not end well between them.  
  
After the long journey it was a relief when the train came to a at King's Cross station. The students, wearing their Muggle clothing, filed out onto Platform 9 3/4. Hermione said goodbye to Agnes and she and Ben went to meet Weston at the wall leading into the main station, since he had left the second the train had stopped.  
  
They went through to the station and were greeted by a thin woman who grabbed Ben into a big hug and petted his hair. Her hair was dark brown and cut in a bob, which bounced when she turned and hugged Weston, who looked politely uncomfortable. "Mum, stop." Ben grumbled, running a hand through his hair to fix it.  
  
Mrs. Weasley turned to face Hermione and shot Ben a look. "Oh, yeah. Mum, this is Hermione DeLuca, she's a transfer from France." Ben explained and Mrs. Weasley gave her a big smile. She hugged Hermione gently and she found herself missing the other Mrs. Weasley she had grown up with. "It's nice to meet you, Hermione." Mrs. Weasley said and took Ben's hand, smiling to her son. "The others are waiting to see you!"  
  
They were ushered over to where the rest of Ben's family stood and three others who must have been Weston's parents and little brother.  Hermione was introduced to them all and found out Ben had three older sisters and one younger brother. His father greeted her too, but he looked much more serious than Arthur Weasley and it made her feel weird thinking of him as Mr. Weasley.  
  
The Potters were very sweet. Weston's father looked just like him and he was very tall. His mother was very pretty and beautiful chocolate locks and kind eyes. His little brother, Peter, had the same dark blue eyes and his mother's curly hair.  
  
"I'm so glad Weston has a female friend, you know. He's just like his father. Kissing all the pretty ones. I'm so glad he can be friends with a girl without trying to kiss her." Mrs. Potter whispered to me and giggled while Weston greeted Peter with a kiss on the forehead.  
  
"Thank you, Mrs. Potter. Weston's a great friend. He's always making me smile." Hermione said. The woman smiled and wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders, squeezing her to her side gently. Hermione was reminded of her own mother and an ache started in her chest at the thought. Mrs. Potter smelled like roses and it reminded her of home.  
  
Mrs. Weasley invited Hermione over for dinner at least ten times before she had to leave. "Do you have to go now 'Mione? You can come for dinner, you know." Ben told me and smiled.  
  
"No thanks Ben. I really appreciate the offer, but my aunt and uncle are probably waiting at the Leaky Cauldron." Hermione said, picking up her suitcase.  
  
"Aunt and uncle?" Mr. Potter asked, "Aren't you spending Christmas with your parents?" Weston paled a bit and opened his mouth to stop his father, but Hermione smiled.  
  
"It's fine really. I would love to see my parents, but they're not around anymore."  _It wasn't a total lie. My parents were definitely 'not around'._    
  
Mr. Potter's expression saddened, but he gave Hermione a small nod and a smile that made her feel better. Hermione was glad to leave them when she left the station. They reminded her too much of home.  
  
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Tom still didn't know how this would work. He had been forced to go back to that stinking orphanage because of Myrtle's death.  _How am I supposed to get out of that miserable place?_  Tom stalked through the station, avoiding the Muggles as best he could. Immediately his eyes found where DeLuca where she was standing with Potter and Weasley's families.  
  
A flash of longing flickered through him and left him enraged at himself and at DeLuca. He tore his eyes from the sight and searched for the banged up, grey haired driver from the orphanage that he so dreaded seeing. He found him easily and made his way over. Tom poked the man's side roughly to get his attention and received a crooked teeth smile in return.   
  
He led Tom to the car that the orphanage used for transportation. The inside was dark and a little dusty and smelled faintly of chemicals. Tom sat on the edge of his seat throughout the entire journey, his heart tightening in his chest the closer they got to the orphanage.  
  
He saw the building and had the sudden urge to leap from the moving car and sprint in the opposite direction. Wool's Orphanage. Rusty and old and full of foul little Muggles, as usual.  
  
Tom yanked his luggage from the boot of the car after they had pulled up in the driveway. His mood had soured considerably, if that were possible. He stalked up the driveway and opened the door, hand shaking as he pushed it open. Quickly, he went upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. On the second landing he walked to his old room, finding it empty. Except for the two Muggles waiting for him there. He had come upstairs so quickly to avoid conversation with the old caretaker, but it seemed she had foreseen that. She stood in the room beside a solid looking man, who was obviously providing security for the orphanage. His face seemed set into a permanent scowl and he had his corded arms crossed over his broad chest. The room stank of grease and mud, most likely coming from the man, Tom wrinkled his nose and set his luggage down.  
  
"Good morning, Tom. I'm just here to remind you to behave yourself while you're staying here. I know you don't want to be here, but here you are."  _Yes, here I am. Well spotted, old lady._ "Mr. Oatman is here for your protection." Tom let out a bark of laughter, making the caretaker jump. "To protect me or to protect everybody else from me?"  
  
Oatman recrossed his arms and opened his mouth, but Tom was saved the oaf's response when the caretaker spoke instead. "Enough of that, Tom. You will behave." she said, pointing her knobbly finger at him and shaking it twice.  
  
"You know when lunch is served, be prompt." she said and walked from the room. Oatman's scowl seemed to deepen as he left the room after her. Tom watched them go and when they were gone he sat on the edge of his small bed.  
  
 _These Muggles are so dull. I would curse myself  to spare myself the torture of their company.  
  
DeLuca. Think about DeLuca. How will you find her? Malfoy said she would be staying at the Leaky Cauldron. How will you get out of the orphanage? I can sneak out, I _can't _use magic, so I will have to be very careful._  
  
 _And then there would be the clean up after I've got rid of her. I could say she went back to France. I can forge letters easily. But then there was Dumbledore. He knew something about her. A secret. And he might not believe the lies I tell.  
  
It's too risky. I need to know what Dumbledore knows, before I kill her._  
  
 _But I don't know if I can wait that long._  
  
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 _I need to know where Walker lives. I can't believe I forgot to look that up at Hogwarts! But once again, distractions occurred. Like snowball fights and late night parties in the common room._  
  
Hermione locked the door to her room in the Leaky Cauldron and she made a mental note to strangle Weston when she saw him next.  _Thanks to him I've got no clue where to start looking for Walker._  With Francis Walker's book in her bag and her wand safely tucked away in the pocket of her slacks, she left the Leaky Cauldron and entered the wonder that was Diagon Alley during Christmas.  
  
Snow coated the ground and the tops of the buildings. Icicles glistened where they hung from roofs and shop windows. And the window displays were beautiful.  The beautiful periwinkle blue coat with fur lined sleeves and a matching hood stood caught Hermione's eye in Madame Malkin's shop window. Real snow drifted down from an invisible source and small reindeer flew here and there around the coat. The matching fluffy white winter boots and gloves hung on a hook near the manikin and everything seemed to glow with a warm light behind the clear glass.  
  
Hermione walked past and made her way to Flourish and Blott's. The bookstore was quiet and peaceful on this December morning and Hermione was hit with a wave of warmth when she opened the door to the shop. She walked through the tall lines of shelves, remembering the time when Mr. Weasley and Lucius Malfoy got into a fight in this very store. And over her Muggle parents no less. She smiled, remembering the image of Hagrid lifting the two men out of a pile of books.  
  
Hermione slipped between two shelves and began to search for Francis Walker's books. She found one further back in the store and took it off of the shelf. She flipped through to the back and scanned the page that was about the author, looking for an address. When her search proved unsuccessful she sighed and closed the book with a thud.   
  
"Looking for something in particular, young lady?" A low voice sounded behind her. Hermione turned, hand already moving to her pocket where she kept her wand. An elderly man stood there, smiling politely at her.  
  
Hermione relaxed and nodded,"I am. Though I don't think there's a book here that has what I'm looking for."  
  
The man wore a homburg hat with a matching brown suit. Crows' feet crinkled at the corners of his hazel eyes and he stroked his short grey beard, eyeing the book Hermione still held in her hand. She smiled at him, putting the book back. "I should be going." Hermione said and turned to leave.  
  
"Wait, miss. You're looking for something that's to do with Francis Walker?" the man asked. Hermione looked to him, frowning slightly and she nodded. Her hand shifted back toward her coat pocket. "Yes."  
  
He smiled, "I know the man. Maybe I can help? What do you want? An autograph? Or do you have a few questions?" he asked.  
  
"Oh thank you, sir. But I actually wanted to know where to find him." she said.   
  
The man took a moment to answer. "What's this about then? I'm his good friend. He's busy at the moment." the man nodded, "Out of town, I'm afraid. I could help though. What did you want to see him for?" he asked.  
  
Hermione eyed the man and took a leap of faith. "I read his book and was interested with travelling forward in time in particular. How would one go about doing that?" she asked and seeing his expression, she added, "Hypothetically, of course."  
  
He smiled and nodded, "It's nice to see such a curious young mind. Though, I'm afraid I don't know. And I'm sure that even if Francis knew, he wouldn't tell just anyone." he smiled warmly. "I'm sorry, miss." he said and this time he turned to leave.   
  
"What if I need to know how to go back in time?" Hermione asked and he stopped, frowning. "What if I need to know...because I'm from the future?"   
  
The mans face paled and he glanced around nervously. "Are- are you serious?" he asked, his voice shaking. Hermione nodded, not daring to let her eyes stray from him. "Can you prove it?" he whispered, leaning closer.   
  
"No. I had nothing but my wand with me when it happened." Hermione took out her wand and when he held out his hand to see it closer she obliged and handed it over.  
  
The man looked over her wand and his frown deepened. "Who made this? Tamani? Gregorovitch? I've never seen this workmanship." he whispered when he handed the wand back to her.   
  
"He's from the future. A man called Ollivander. He's the best wand-maker there." she explained.   
  
The man sighed, wiping his brow. "I believe you, miss...?"  
  
"Granger." Hermione responded with her real name in case anyone from Hogwarts (anyone being Tom Riddle) came snooping.   
  
 "Miss Granger, I'm sorry to say that I've lied to you." he said sheepishly.   
  
Hermione blinked, her grip on her wand tightening. The man removed his hat and held it in both of his wrinkled hands.  
  
"I'm sorry, Miss Granger. Because I'm Francis Walker."


	17. Chapter 17

Francis Walker's private home was located in Muggle London. Hermione was currently seated in his living room, waiting for him to return from the kitchen with the tea he had offered her. His living room was draped in maroon and cream tapestries. The hardwood floor boasted intricately woven silk carpets and the furniture was a rich, dark mahogany. Hermione looked up and saw a small, simple chandelier hanging in the centre of the room.  
  
"Your tea, Miss Granger." Francis Walker said when he came back in with a plain teacup and saucer. Hermione smiled and took it with a nod of thanks and Mr. Walker took his seat in an armchair opposite her with a heavy sigh. "Bad knees." he explained with a smile, "Be thankful for your youth." he took a sip of his tea and looked to her, "What is it you need my help with?"  
  
Hermione looked to her cup of hot tea and placed the cup and saucer on the coffee table in front of her. "Well, I need to get back to my time. I've been reading book after book trying to find out how to travel forward in time. And your book was the only one I came across that mentions it at all."  
  
He nodded his understanding, "And that is why you came looking for me." He took another sip of his tea, "Why don't you start by telling me how you got here?"  
  
Hermione launched into the story of the war and then she told him about the events before she had found herself in the past. She told him about Bellatrix and the duel and then the spells colliding. She told him how she woke up on the same stone floor except now she was in the 1940's. Mr. Walker paid close attention to her story and set his teacup down when she was done.

  
"You said the spells were 'Depulso' and a very uncommon spell, 'Consto Tempus', which in Latin means, 'stop time'." Mr. Walker mused.    
  
The answer had occurred to Hermione many times before. "The spells merging sent me back..." she stated, sitting forward in her chair slightly.  
  
"Yes, that is my guess. If what I know is accurate, the spells were twisted with the caster's emotions. This difference in the spells is called emovere. It is obvious that being in the middle of a war feelings were strong and of an ill nature. I fear this is what changed the spells to send you back instead of what their normal use would be."  
  
"If this is the case, then what do I have to do to get home?" Hermione asked him, her desperation evident in her tone.  
  
Mr. Walker sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I-I'm afraid something like this is not easy at all-"  
  
"How do you do it, Mr. Walker?"   
  
He looked up at her and sighed, seeing how she needed the information. "You have to find two spells that have the proper aspects that could send you forward in time. But that's the easy part. You need the raw emotions to twist the spell properly. You may have to experiment many times, and if it doesn't work, something dangerous may happen. You need two casters. You cannot be one of them, I'm afraid. The right emotion will change the spells and send you forwards."  
  
Hermione sat back in her seat, thinking hard. Mr. Walker went on, "But the feeling needs to be true. Pure emotion. Which, unfortunately cannot be recreated or summoned up from a memory. No, the casters must be in a real scenario, with real emotion and real intention behind the spells."  
  
Hermione frowned and began to think it through.  _How would I do this? How am I supposed to put these casters in a real scenario? How can I guarantee they will feel the right emotion or that the spell will even change? I don't even know who to ask for help from. Dumbledore? Probably. But how long will all this take? I'll be stuck here for ages._  
  
Hermione stood from the armchair. "Thank you, Mr. Walker. But I really must be going. I truly appreciate your help and hospitality." she smiled as Mr. Walker stood as well and nodded. "It's no problem, Miss Granger. But wait a moment, I have a book that may help you. My grandfather gave it to me. It's very old and I have no use for it. I have a feeling it will help you."  
  
Mr. Walker moved across the room to a large wooden bookshelf and he pulled out a tattered emerald book. He brought it over and held it out to her. Hermione read the cover, 'A Guide To Spell-Casting' by Oscar Nikolis. She thanked Mr. Walker once again and he showed her to the door.  
  
Hermione slipped the book into her bag as she walked out of  down the front gate of Mr. Walker's estate. She made her way back to the Apparating Area where she had arrived with Mr. Walker. She was walking down an alley, one block away from the area , when a body slammed into her and knocked her back off of her feet. Hermione immediately whipped out her wand, without thinking about the fact that she was in Muggle London, and she pointed it straight at the person who had knocked her down.  
  
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 _Dirty, filthy, Muggles._  Tom stormed into his room and slammed the door, the grimy windows shaking from the force of it. Once again he had underestimated how annoying this place was.  
  
 _How dare they even speak to me? I taught them a lesson. They deserved it for the things they had said._ Tom knew he was in trouble. He had lost control and had lashed out physically, since if he were to use his magic he'd be in even more trouble. He hadn't meant to punch the boy so hard, but it had just happened. And now he was up in his room, waiting for the Old Lady to lecture him about his behaviour.  
  
Tom was surprised when his door opened and Mr. Oatman entered the room. He was visibly furious and Tom stood, sensing the severity of the situation.  
  
Mr. Oatman was doing his job. Fear shot through Tom and he remembered that he had no magic to use.  
  
Oatman reached out to grab Tom's hard, but he punched the large man in the jaw. Oatman shook it off easily. Tom hissed as his hand throbbed from the effort of the punch. He quickly ignored the pain and used the moment of confusion to run, slipping past the large man and into the hallway.  
  
Oatman followed, making another grab at Tom that pushed him off balance and sent him flying down the stairs. He landed hard on the bottom step and cried out in pain, a sharp pain forming in his side. Old Lady stepped forward to help Tom up, but he snarled at her, struggling to stand on his own.   
  
"Riddle-" Old Lady began to speak, but was silenced with the darkest look Tom could muster. He turned his head and saw Oatman atop the stairs.  
  
"You really need to learn to hire guards that actually protect kids instead of beat them up." Tom hissed at Old Lady and she shrunk back. This wasn't the first time Tom had encountered an abusive guard.   
  
Understanding flickered through Old Lady's cloudy, cataract eyes and Tom sneered, holding his ribs as he moved to the door.   
  
Nobody tried to stop him.  
  
He began running once he had left the premises. Tom sprinted down an alleyway, unaware where he was going. He looked back over his shoulder- his paranoia driving him to see if he was being pursued- and smashed straight into a body.  
  
Tom's head shot around and his eyes widened at the wand in his face and then at who it was holding that wand.  
  
 _Hermione DeLuca found me instead._ Tom opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a grunt of pain as his ribs began aching again. His head started spinning wildly and he leaned against the stone wall, having difficulty catching his breath.  
  
Hermione lifted her wand and Tom felt the tip press against the underside of his jaw.  
  
Hermione's hands shook only slightly, but Tom still noticed. "Do it then, DeLuca." he panted.   
  
Her eyes flashed and she pressed her wand harder into my jaw, a snarl on her lips. "What are you doing here, Riddle?" she asked.  
  
The familiarity of her voice- despite it being cold and angry- reminded him of home. Of Hogwarts. Tom's  eyes drooped and the pain started to become unbearable. "I think I'm about to pass out." he heard himself say before he toppled over.   
  
He felt her catch him and lower him to the ground gently. There was something soft and warm beneath his head and he realised, albeit with difficulty, that she was cradling his head on her lap. He could tell she was confused and suspicious by the way she was calling his name, but he was too dizzy to reply.  
  
In his exhaustion, Tom smiled when he recognised the smell of lavender that followed Hermione wherever she went. He took a deep breath and slowly fell into unconsciousness.  
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Hermione didn't wake up in her own bed. She was in her room in the Leaky Cauldron, lying sprawled across the floor, covered only by a thin blanket. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, stretching to look over the edge of the bed.  
  
Hermione stood and saw the body on the mattress, lying under the thick blanket. Tom Riddle was lying asleep on her bed. The thought was absurd.   
  
Last night she had healed his ribs and bruises as best as she could without the use of magic. She had then put him to bed, although it had been difficult to transport him she had managed in the end.  
  
Hermione moved over to the bed and stood over him, watching the rise and fall of his bare chest that was covered by the warm quilt. She had had to remove his shirt last night in order to heal his ribs properly. To be completely honest with herself he wasn't bad looking.  
  
 _I admit it. He's handsome. Beautiful and ugly. Evil and good. But I know what wins in the end. He would become imperfect, ugly, **evil**. And the sooner I realize that the better. I should be getting as far from him as possible._  
  
 _Still..._  
  
 _He looked so peaceful asleep. So normal.  
_  
Hermione tentatively reached out, lost in thought as she brushed  a strand of his dark hair from his forehead. Immediately after doing so she pulled back her hand, chiding herself for her stupidity as she moved towards the bathroom.  
  
She had a shower and got dressed into thick sweater and a long skirt. She put on her coat and gloves at the door, glancing back at Riddle. She decided to leave him a note.   
  
She grabbed a notepad and pencil, writing quickly:   
  
'Riddle, you're in my room in the Leaky Cauldron. Don't move around, just stay in bed, because you're seriously injured. Remember, no magic. I don't have to remind you why. I'll be back soon, I've gone out to get some books. If you need food you have to wait till I get back. Try to get some more sleep. Granger.'  
  
Hermione read over the note and panicked when she realised she had signed off with her real surname. She didn't take any chances and rewrote the note on another sheet of paper, balling the first one up and stuffing it in her coat pocket.  
  
Hermione left the note on the bedside table beside a glass of warm water. She decided to put another blanket over him, seeing as the heater in the room wasn't working very well. She put the blanket over him gently and had the urge to touch his cheek but stopped herself. Hermione moved straight to the door and left the room, locking the door behind her.  
  
Hermione told herself she didn't care about Riddle. That she thought of him as an enemy.   
  
But she knew that was a lie.  
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Tom Riddle woke up in a cold sweat and kicked the unfamiliar blankets off of himself. He let out a cry of pain as the action earned him a sharp stab of pain in his side.  
  
He moved to sit up, but was stopped by two warm hands on his chest.  
  
"I assume you haven't read the note." the familiar voice said.  
  
Tom looked up to see Hermione DeLuca watching him with her usual cold expression.   
  
 _She helped me._  
  
"What note?" he grunted, hand going to his ribs. "Where am I? And where are my clothes?" he snapped.  
  
Hermione huffed and straightened, setting the books she held in her hand down on the bedside table with a loud thump that made Tom wince involuntarily.   
  
Hermione ignored it and frowned, "I had to heal your ribs. Your shirt is on that armchair. Leave it to you to be ungrateful. I could very well have you left you in that alley to freeze over. It would have saved a lot of my problems."  
  
Tom glanced down at the white bandage wrapped around his chest and recognised the familiar sting of salve on his skin. Obviously Hermione had bought potions for him.   
  
"Well. Thanks."  
  
Tom registered what he said after he had said it.   
  
Hermione was eyeing him curiously, but thankfully she brushed it off. "What happened to you? Who did this?" she asked him, removing her coat and gloves and going to hang them up on the hooks by the door.   
  
Tom watched her quietly, then looked around the room. "Nobody." he replied, sending her the message that he would not tell her anything.  
  
Hermione didn't seem surprised by his answer. "You probably picked a fight with somebody and then remembered you couldn't use magic to win it." she jibed and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.  
  
Tom relaxed.  _She's just trying to get a rise out of me. But perhaps I should tell her what happened. She helped me after all. I would have left her there._  
  
Tom tried to picture the situation if their roles were reversed and he knew he would not leave her there. He could not. And he would have helped her for more than just his chance at revenge.


	18. Chapter 18

Tom lay in the wretched bed, patiently waiting for DeLuca to return. Moving was out of the question. Apparently he had twisted his ankle as well and even sitting up would be strenuous due to his rib. At least that's what  **she** says.  
  
 _She enjoys ordering me around. When I can stand then we'll see who orders who around._  
  
Tom heard the door open and lifted his head to see the figure of DeLuca locking the door behind her and shrugging off her coat. Tom averted his eyes.  
  
"Good morning. How is your rib?" DeLuca asked while walking over, tossing her coat onto a chair.  
  
"Fine. How is the snow?" Tom asked.  
  
Hermione shrugged, "It's gotten colder and the snow is falling heavily." She sat down on the chair next to the bed and dug through her bag. "I went to get some more of that salve for the pain and the potion for your rib and ankle. The man said that if you take it twice a day you should be better in at least a few days." She pulled out three bottles that Tom- unfortunately- recognised.  
  
"Those are disgusting, you know." he said, making Hermione frown.  
  
"Well, unless you want to stay here all winter I suggest you stop whining." she said, setting the bottles on the bedside table.  
  
"I'm not whining." he snapped. Hermione glared and began to unpack her bag. Tom was surprised she hadn't left his bedside, but he was secretly glad of it. She was the only company he had.  
  
He spotted the book in her lap and tried to read the title upside down. Hermione noticed his looking and she held it out to him. "This is for you."   
  
Tom took it from her and scoffed, "Really, DeLuca? 'Dark Magic: A Tragic History'?"  
  
"Yes. You may find it informative." she huffed, eyeing him as she dug through her bag.  
  
"It's a little late for that." he murmured, looking down at the book in his lap. Hermione looked to him for a moment, eyes searching his face. Tom noticed and looked to her, shaking her from her reverie.  
  
She reached for a bottle on the bedside table and began to pour the first potion into a spoon. She handed it to Tom and he drank the vile liquid, glaring at her each time it made him gag, but Hermione ignored him.  
  
When Tom had taken all of his medication she helped him sit up and remove his shirt. Hermione averted her eyes from his bare skin, which made Tom smirk. He watched her apply the salve to the bruises on his side.   
  
 _She's quite beautiful._  
  
There was no use denying that, so he didn't try to. He thought she was beautiful.  
  
 _And strong. And clever.  
  
Right. Now I need to stop._  
  
He paid attention to the gentleness of her fingers and the focus in her expression.   
  
 _I could get her on my side. If I tried hard enough. And she'd be valuable to me. I could-_  
  
"You still haven't told me who did this to you." Tom heard her say.  
  
"Nobody did anything to me. I fell down the stairs." he said and shrugged, wincing when it strained his rib.  
  
Hermione frowned at him, both for shrugging and for lying to her.  
  
"Tom." she sighed, looking back to his skin. "You can tell me. It's been two days since I brought you here and you haven't spoken a word about how this happened. Except for your lie about falling down the stairs." she said.  "Did someone push you? Tom?"   
  
Tom frowned, realising she had called him by his first name. Twice.  
  
He felt like a child then. Sitting in bed and being taken care of. And the funny thing was that it was DeLuca taking care of him.  _I swore to kill her. And now look at me._  
  
Hermione's care reminded him of something that soured his mood even further. He And he grew cold again, face scowling.  
  
She seemed to realise her mistake, because she looked wary- scanning for his reaction.  
  
When he did not reply, she spoke. "Sorry. I guess you'll tell me when you're ready."  
  
Tom nodded, then his mouth opened and he said something he immediately regretted. "You called me Tom." He shut his mouth quickly.  
  
Hermione blinked and shifted in her seat, "Yes." she murmured, a question in her tone. "Do you mind?"  
  
"No." he admitted and looked away, hoping to end the conversation. Hermione offered him a small smile and fished a book out of her bag. She settled down and began to read.  
  
Tom decided to read the book Hermione had brought for him, since she seemed occupied with her own book. After he had read a few pages Hermione toed off her shoes and propped her feet up on Tom's bed, near his legs.  
  
He pretended not to notice and they read silently till it was time for bed.  
  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
A routine grew over the next few days.  
  
Hermione would leave for Diagon Alley in the morning before Tom woke. There she would browse the many shops. She would collect Tom's medicine and salve and maybe buy a few books for them both. Then she would sit on one of the benches that frequented the streets with a notebook and plan out how she was going to get back home.  
  
At least that's what she told herself she was doing.  
  
She found that her thoughts would drift back to the boy that waited for her at the Leaky Cauldron.  
  
Hermione got up from the bench everyday after deciding that once Tom was well enough to walk he would be gone and everything would return to normal.  
  
That decision was forgotten the moment she stepped through the door and saw him waiting up for her.  
  
He greets her with a nod and waits for his daily dose of medication which Hermione gives him after she takes off her coat.  _Where will he go once he's healed? Back to the orphanage?_ She looks up at him while she thinks and catches him already watching her.  _I know someone there did this to him. And he knows I do._  
  
As Tom finished the last of his medicine he sat up and she lifted the hem of his shirt, helping him remove it.   
  
That was another thing she had had to buy him. He hadn't had any clothes with him when she found him, except the ones he had been wearing. Hermione bought him shirts and pants, a coat and socks as well as a few items of clothing which had made her blush when she had handed them to him. He had taken the underwear quickly, balling them up in his hands and stuffing the fabric under the pile of clothing.  
  
She deposited his shirt on the bedside table and Tom lay back carefully. Hermione kept her eyes on the yellow bruises along his ribs and then began to apply the salve to his skin. She caught him watching her face a lot when this was being done.  
  
After this he would put his shirt back on while Hermione washed up.  And when she came back out of the bathroom he would be resting against the headboard of the bed, reading a book. Hermione would join him without hesitation, sitting beside the bed with her own book in hand.  
  
It became a peaceful time while they were reading together. Hermione would zone out until he shifted on the bed or made a noise and then she was reminded of his presence and reminded of how strange this peace between them was. She went back to her book quickly and her worrying thoughts drifted away.  
  
Sometimes when he was in a strange mood, he would ask her questions.   
  
Questions about anything. He would talk to her about magic and school. About harmless subjects like the weather. Then he started to talk about his time at Hogwarts. How in his younger years he would play tricks on teachers and other students.   
  
It was during one of these stories when he called her by her first name and it made them both pause for a moment. Once that pause passed he finished the story quickly, voice lacking his previous enthusiasm. They both went back to reading that day.  
  
Once he made her laugh with a story about how a boy in his dormitory had created the worst smelling stink bomb anyone had ever smelled and he had stolen it and tossed it onto the shower with the boy. He had stank of curdled milk and manure for a whole month, Tom swore on it. Hermione was reminded of Fred and George's pranks and she laughed at the expression of sincerity and seriousness on his face.  
  
After that Hermione began to tell her own stories, although they were heavily edited to fit the time and the context of her backstory.  
  
She made him smile once. A real smile- not a mocking smirk- but a real genuine smile that made his eyes warm and his harsh features soften. Hermione couldn't help but smile back and they allowed that moment to pass between them. But neither one forgot the others smile and the friendship that lay waiting there.  
  
Hermione was scared. She could admit it. She was scared of what was changing between them. The Sorting Hat had said he was her match and her challenge.  
  
 _Was that all he was?_  
  
She had helped him, but did that make him her friend? Did she even want his friendship?  
  
It was dumb. It was the stupidest thing she'd ever tried to do. But his smile and the way he spoke so tenderly about Hogwarts made her want to try. What he would become; the white skin, slit nose and ruby eyes haunted her almost every day. But the more she saw him now the more she wanted to help him.  
  
 _Hermione Granger, the biggest fool in the history of fools._  
  
She wanted to be his friend.


	19. Chapter 19

_**TRIGGER WARNING: Explicit Violence and Implied Sexual Abuse in the following chapter.** _

Tom could manage walking by the end of the week. And so he decided to follow Hermione into Diagon Alley one morning, despite her protests that he was not well enough.  
  
They passed the morning without much conversation. Seeing Tom out of bed and walking around reminded Hermione of their friction in the past and kept her silent while they roamed the shops together.  
  
It was late morning when Tom grew tired enough to begrudgingly sit on a nearby bench and rest.  
  
"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked him, sitting beside him on the bench. She didn't look at him, too busy trying to fit her stack of books into her bag.  
  
"I'm fine." Tom replied, eyeing the passersby.  
  
"What do you plan on doing now, Tom?" she asked, following his gaze, simply for something to look at other than him.  
  
That question had been bothering him too.  _Would she want me to leave? Of course she would._  
  
"I'll have to leave." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hermione glance up at him, "but I don't know where I'll go."  
  
"Well, we only have a week of holidays left. You might as well stay." she shrugged, looking to him. "You're barely in good enough health to move around on your own. You need me." she said, with a huff of breath.  
  
Tom blinked and looked at her. "Are you teasing me, DeLuca?" he asked, a smile tugging at his lips.   
  
She laughed. She actually laughed. And he blinked again in confusion, taken aback, but strangely enthralled. He wanted to see her laugh again. "Thank you." he mumbled, "For letting me stay."  
  
Hermione nodded, looking back out at a young girl passing by the bench, holding her mother's hand. They fell silent again.   
  
She seemed to be forgetting who he was, and Tom was afraid that he was too. He shook those thoughts away, trying to forget them. She was simply a weapon. Just a tool.  
  
But he could not forget her laugh.

 

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

That night they had dinner downstairs in the old bar, both unappreciative of the lack lustre food and service. Exchanging looks all night- provoked by the waiter who flirted with a woman at the table beside theirs unabashedly- they eventually retired upstairs to their room to read. 

Hermione sat on the chair and Tom sat on the bed as usual. After a few minutes into reading her book, Hermione glanced up to see him watching her.

"Do you want to go to sleep?" she asked him, closing her book gingerly. She set it aside on the bedside table. 

Tom shifted, visibly uncomfortable. "Are you in pain?" she asked him.

Tom shook his head and, to Hermione's shock, sucked in a shuddering breath. "I've decided to tell you about how I got injured." he said. Hermione quickly nodded, wanting to know. She knew how difficult opening up about this, to her in particular, must be for him. 

It took a minute or two or internal debating for him to finally start speaking. "I live in an orphanage. My... parents are dead. But that doesn't matter to me. I never knew them. I don't want to know them."

Hermione knew he was lying. About his father being dead and about not caring. Harry had told Ron and her that Riddle had killed his father himself the night he had taken the Gaunt ring from his uncle. Tom didn't have the Gaunt ring on, nor had Hermione even seen it in this time, meaning that he had not committed the murders of his family yet. 

Tom continued, "The orphanage hired a man. He was there to cause...harm to me. That's what he did." Tom refused to make eye contact with Hermione as he spoke. "I lost control." he admitted, "And punished those Muggles... for their ignorance. He saw fit to beat me and throw me down the stairs. In the end, I won."

Hermione frowned and gently touched his arm. "Thank you for telling me that Tom. But you don't need to go back, you're here with me now. You're healed and safe." she assured him. 

She stood them, knowing the extent of his humiliation. Being hit by a Muggle and having to tell Hermione about it too. She would leave him to regain his composure.

However once she reached the bathroom door she heard a noise which could only have been her name, twisted by a shuddering breath.

She turned and moved back to him. "Tom?" she asked, eyes worried. His head was hung, eyes closed. She saw something wet on his cheek and immediately froze. "Tom..." she whispered, watching a tear fall from his chin.

There was more he needed to tell her.

He choked out that strangled version of her name again and Hermione sat on the edge of the bed beside him. "I can't tell you." he said lowly.

His voice was even softer when he said the next words, Hermione couldn't take her eyes from him and had to lean in to hear him.

"But I can show you..."

Hermione felt realisation dawn. She picked up her wand from the bedside table beside her discarded book. She pointed it at him and whispered the spell.

"Legilimens."

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
_The orphanage was a dull and dismal place. Full of Muggle children and worn out furniture._

_The room I stood in was dirty and the paint peeled off of the walls. A single, lumpy looking bed stood in the room, as well as a simple cabinet and desk made of the same rough wood._

_I knew immediately that the boy at the desk was a younger Tom Riddle._

_The Boy looked six or seven years old, but he still had the sharp, dark eyes and neat looking hair. He dressed smartly in a worn collared shirt and waistcoat. However his shirt was untucked at his waist and watching him fiddle with it made me smile._

_He sat at the desk, scratching marks into the already splintering wood with a pencil. At closer inspection, you could see the purple and black bruises that flowered over his arms and the still healing scars across his face._

_All of a sudden a loud noise from the other side of the door made the young Riddle flip around in his seat._

_I saw a glimpse of  fear in his eyes, before he was scurrying under the bed. I glanced at the door to see a large, but unfit looking Man around 40 years of age. He was standing in the doorway, filling the space despite not being all that tall. His cold brown eyes were searching the room for it's occupant._

_The Man's gaze rolled over the bed and he flashed a grin that chilled my blood. He stepped forward slowly, obviously knowing already where Riddle was. He was torturing the Boy with his slow pace and pretend search._

_Suddenly, the Man dropped to his hands and knees and reached under the bed, grabbing hold of a head of dark hair. I gasped as I watched the Man violently wrench the Boy out from under there._

_The Man bared his teeth when he saw the Boy struggle in his grasp. Tears rolled down the Boy's cheeks as he was held up by his hair._

_The Man yanked the boys head up again and fresh tears fell, he cried out in pain. I started forward angrily, reaching out instinctually to swipe through the memory Man's arm, unable to help. But this was just a memory. This had already happened._

_The Man set the boy down roughly, gripping the back of his little neck. He directed the Boy outside of the room, walking behind him and pushing him forward. Once he reached the stairs, he shoved him down it._

_The Man let out a bark of harsh laughter as the Boy stumbled down the steps. The Man kept pushing, not letting the Boy regain his balance until he fell down the last few steps, landing on his back on the basement floor._

_My imagination ran wild. I followed the Man downstairs, watching through my tears._

_He growled insults to the Boy. Things like, "You think you're special, you little freak?" "I'll teach you a lesson, you sick little monster."_

_I felt as though I couldn't watch anymore. But I had to. Riddle was showing me this._

_The Man proceeded to lift the boy by his arm, twisting it painfully till the Boy cried out. The Man smacked him then, ordering the Boy to shut up and stop making noise._

_Now I knew why the Boy had been littered with bruises and scars. The Man kicked the boy in the back of the legs, making him kneel in a dark secluded room. There was little light down here and the room was small. The walls were cold bricks and the Boy's shallow breaths could be seen fogging up in the air._

_I couldn't watch anymore. The Man jeered at him, hiding behind his sense of justice. His belief that this little boy deserved to be punished. He smacked Riddle again. I flinched and cried out. The Boy's head lolled onto his chest, tears falling to the stone floor._

_My heart broke and I watched as the Man stood and pushed Riddle forward with a lazy hand. His other hand rested on his hip, fingers toying the button of his pants._

_I closed my eyes and willed myself out of Riddle's memory. I couldn't even breathe. I could never have imagined that this was why Riddle was what he was._


	20. Chapter 20

Hermione stumbled backwards as she was jolted out of the memory and slammed back into reality.  
  
Immediately she looked to Riddle and found him crouched over on the bed. The sheets were askew, his head bent so low it almost touched his knees. His hands were wound tight in his hair and his eyes were shut tight. His chest rose and fell with deep breaths.   
  
Hermione remembered that little boy in the memory as she sat on the edge of the bed beside him. He didn't look at her and Hermione did not look at him. Her pity would only make him angry.  
  
It took a long while for Hermione to reach out her hand and place it on his tense shoulder. But when she did he flinched and recoiled. It was as though Tom Marvolo Riddle, the Head Boy, aspiring Dark Lord, heartless teenager- was gone. In his place were his fears and his pain and that little boy hiding under the bed.  
  
Hermione pulled him to her in a hug.  
  
Tom tensed, then returned the embrace. Hermione let him take comfort from her, all the while her head spinning.   
  
_Tom had just shown me his darkest secret. If I told him mine... perhaps he could trust me. He deserves as much. Doesn't he?_  
  
"Tom." Hermione started, voice soft.  
  
He grunted, pulling back from the embrace and putting his head in his hands again.  
  
Hermione closed her eyes and spat the words out before she could think better of them. "I'm from the future."  
  
For a moment she thought he might laugh at her. Might get angry that she was making jokes now of all times. But when she opened her eyes he was looking at her, eyes tired. He nodded, an action that held both respect and gratitude. Hermione released a breath of relief and watched him shift on the bed, turning away from her.  
  
"I'm tired, Hermione. I'll sleep now."   
  
Hermione nodded and turned the bedside lamp off. She heard him tuck himself under the covers as she got up and brought a few pillows over to her armchair. She sat down, wrapped a blanket around herself and listened to Tom's slow breathing before falling asleep herself.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Tom shot up in bed. His memories from the night before coming back to him. Hermione was asleep in the armchair beside the bed. He ran a hand through his hair.  _Oh, Merlin. What have I done?_  
  
He scrambled out of bed and steadied himself with a hand against the wall. He went into the bathroom as quietly as possible and locked the door behind him. The image that greeted him in the mirror was a shock.  
  
Dark shadows stood out under his eyes. The bruises from his ordeal were still slightly visible, but were fading. They had left behind sallow patches that were obvious against his pale skin. Tom splashed water on his face and ran his hands over his face to remove the excess water. He winced, frowning when his hand has pressed against a still tender bruise. The pain sparked his anger and he hurriedly wiped his face dry, tossing the towel aside when done.  
  
_Letting her comfort me like a child. It was a mistake. It had all been a mistake._  
  
Tom looked back in the mirror and combed through his hair with his fingers. He watched the movement in the mirror and found himself longing for her fingers in his hair.  
  
_What a strange sensation... But not altogether unpleasant. Or unwanted._  
  
Tom sneered at his reflection and stalked out of the bathroom. He snatched up his coat, pulling it on over his clothes as he glared at Hermione's sleeping form. Despite his rancid mood, he made sure to slip out quietly so as not to disturb her.  
  
Witches and wizards walked the streets of Diagon Alley that morning, but Tom sat himself at a bench. He watched the crowd as his mind wandered.  
  
_Why would you do that? What was the benefit of telling her?_  
  
_So weak._  
  
A young girl walked past, holding her mother’s hand. Tom watched them go past, brow furrowing. His eyes followed them, but his thoughts fell on something else.

 _Her secret. Shed a new light on things. It explained much, but was an opportunity for so much more knowledge. More so than ever before, I need her on my side._  


The chime of a bell on a nearby shop door distracted him and he looked up at the sky.  
  
_Where to go now? Not back to the room._ He decided, instead he got up and began to wander. A small part of him wondered if Hermione would come looking for him. A smaller part of him wished she wouldn’t _._  And an even smaller part of him wished that she would.

 He had the answer when he spotted in the crowd of Diagon Alley, a familiar face, accompanied with bushy brown hair. In the panic he felt seeing her moving closer to where he was he slipped into a shop, avoiding her. She looked around, her frantic eyes the only thing betraying her escalating worry.

Tom remained in Knockturn Alley till late afternoon, when he decided to make his way back to the shops at around six. He found a local tavern that suited his needs and went inside with a few glances down the street on either side to make sure a certain schoolgirl wasn’t watching him.  


\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione had searched everywhere for Tom. Which meant one thing: that he was hiding from her. Her worry had fades into anger, stemming also from her tiredness at having to search for him all day.

 

_Why can't he come out and face me? What a coward!_

Hermione was about to turn around and head back once she saw that it was nine already. _Forget it. Let him try and get back without the room key. No underage magic, Riddle._

 

Hermione was distracted by loud voices, she turned to look for the source and her eyes widened in recognition. By the time she got to the tavern, Tom was already outside, lying in the snow.  
  
_He’s drunk. You have got to be joking._

“’Mione, those men are not very… not very nice.” He sat up, jabbing a finger back at the tavern door. Hermione sighed disapprovingly, reaching down to help him up.   
  
Tom huffed, turning his angry gaze on Hermione. “Whass goin’ on? Don’t touch me, you…you..f-” Hermione glared at him, pulling him to his feet. “Shut up, Riddle.” She hissed.

 

He fell silent, stumbling in the snow as the pair headed back towards the Leaky Cauldron.

  
“You know, I saw you today." He said, eyes blurry and his gaze on his feet.

 

"You're drunk." Hermione stated simply, hoping to end the conversation. She opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione struggled helping him upstairs, holding his arm and supporting him.

 

Outside the room she leaned him against the wall and fumbled with her keys, opening the door. “Come on, Tom. Inside.” She said, leaning down to help him up again.

 

“Why’re you so nice? Is dumb. People won’t be nice back.” He stood, using the wall for support. He shook a finger at her as he went into the room, swaying.

 

Hermione watched him go, brow furrowed. She sighed, closing the door behind her once she was inside, then locking it with the key. She helped Riddle out of his coat, and got him into bed. He remained silent, looking out the window until she turned off the lights and his head hit the mattress with a flop. Hermione smiled, hearing his deep, even breaths. She curled up on the armchair and fell asleep easily, lulled by his rhythmic breaths.  
  


\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
"Isn't there some kind of Muggle medication for things like this?" Tom snarled, cradling his forehead as he sat up in bed. He had woken up with a throbbing headache and his mood was especially sour because of it.  
  
Hermione’s mood, however, was the opposite. She gasped, folding some clothes next to the bed. "Tom Riddle asking for  **Muggle** medication?" She glanced over at him and grinned at his unamused expression.

 

"Shut up, DeLuca." he growled, shaking his head, then wincing.  
  
"Serves you right for drinking so much." She said, shrugging as she tucked the clothing into a drawer.

 

"Really?” he looked up at her, frowning, “Now is not the best time."

 

Hermione grinned wider, glancing back at him and picking up another shirt to fold.  
  
"Why are you so cheeky this morning anyway?" he asked, "It's a terrible day." He scowled at the window, eyes narrowed at the light shining through.

 

Hermione laughed. "Maybe for you, but last night someone told me I was ‘too nice’. And I was thinking about it and just to spite him, I’m going to be even nicer.”

 

He groaned again. "Please, don't tell me what I said last night. I don't wish to know. At all."  
  
As Hermione put a stack of clothes away she remembered something. "So, your birthday is coming up. Tomorrow actually?"

 

Silence, then a mumbled, "Yes."  
  
"Do you, maybe, want to go out anywhere special?" Hermione asked.

 

 More silence. “I've never done that before." She heard him mutter. _That wasn’t a no._

 

"Well, this year will be different. We can go out and celebrate. As friends."  
  
Silence.  
  
"That would be nice." he whispered.

 

Hermione smiled to herself, hoping that tomorrow everything would turn out okay. She personally, couldn't wait...


	21. Chapter 21

"Come on, Tom, hurry up!" Hermione called into the room from the hallway outside. She smiled sheepishly at a passing wizard who scowled at the noise she was making.  
"Shut up." She heard him mumble from behind the door. He came out, wrapping an emerald scarf around his neck, his dark hair tousled since he had been rushed.  
  
"We better not be going anywhere dull." he said as he followed Hermione down the corridor and out into Diagon Alley.  
"What's your definition of dull?" she asked. Tom caught up with her fast pace and walked beside her.  
"Stupid, idiotic, childish, silly." he listed.  
Hermione rolled her eyes, "I'll try my best." She turned to face him when they reached the apparating area. Hermione moved to the spot and held out her hand for Tom to take.  
He frowned. "Why can't **I** apparate?" he demanded.  
Hermione smiled and raised a brow. "Weren't one of your definitions childish?" She hinted, tilting her head at him.  
He frowned and sighed heavily before taking her hand, standing beside her. Hermione remembered when she had first met him and they had shaken hands in Potions class. _How things have changed._  
Tom turned to look at her, frown on his brow. He opened his mouth to complain about her lack of apparating just as she focused and apparated them to the location she had in mind.  
  
Her parents had come there for a holiday a few years ago. Hermione had remembered the spot from a picture they had brought back and also because it was remote and the scenery was beautiful.  
She released Tom's hand and stepped forward, turning to hear what he had to say. Tom raised his eyebrows, looking around, surveying the area with his usual calculation.  
  
"Not what I expected.” He said.  
Hermione sighed, prompting him for more information with a look.  
“I'm **slightly** impressed." he grumbled, walking past her, towards the village. He turned, looking over his shoulder, "They have a pub here, right?"  
Hermione caught up with him, shaking her head. "You are not going into another pub as long as I'm around." She replied.  
  
He smirked, walking beside her through the village. "It is my birthday."  
Hermione ignored him, "We aren't staying in town. We'll be hiking up that hill." She said, pointing at the green mound rising up from behind the village.  
His gaze rose to take in the hill and the surrounding forest. "I do not hike."  
  
Hermione laughed, "You do now."  
  
Tom scowled, walking ahead. The main street was lined with shops and small houses, people walked past them, minding their own business. Tom spoke, "I take it you've been here before then?”  
 "My parents have." She looked up at the hill, remembering the photograph of them smiling just in front of where they had camped. The trees had been a dull forest green, but in her memory that was understandable because her parents’ smiles had been so much brighter. Hermione had thought about their smiles often. How happy they had been. _Without me._ "Though the village wasn't here when they visited." Hermione said quietly.  
  
Tom frowned in confusion, and was about to voice this confusion before he realised what she meant. He nodded, "Are your parents dead?" he asked, bluntly.  
Hermione was taken aback, then remembered who she was talking to. "No. But they might as well be."  
 He raised his brow and she continued, "I had to erase their memories. They don't remember that they have a daughter. The situation called for it and I had to protect them.” She said, leaving out the fact that his future self had been the reason for that situation. “They live in Australia now." she said as they left the small village behind them.  
  
He nodded and cleared his throat. They passed the tree line in silence and began the uphill climb. "Something's been bothering me." he said.  
Hermione looked to him in question.  
He smiled, "Is your name really Hermione De Luca?"  
She returned his smile, "My name is Hermione. But my surname is really Granger."  
  
He nodded again and said, "I prefer Granger to De Luca." Hermione laughed, shaking her head. But he remained stoic, looking at her seriously. "It suits you much better."  
She smiled, turning her gaze back to the forest in front of them. “Thanks?” she laughed. Tom grinned, turning his gaze to his feet.  
  
Dew drops fell from the canopy as they trekked through the underbrush. Tom lengthens his strides to keep up with the fast pace she’s set. He is the one to break the silence again, to her surprise.  
“Are you really from France?” he asked.  
Hermione shook her head, “No, I’m from England.”  
  
In the next silence that passed between them, Hermione remembered the stories her parents had told her about their trip here. Once they had neared the top her father had raced up, which had given him a cramp in his calf. Her mother had set up their campsite, all the while laughing as her dad had struggled to get rid of the cramp in his leg. Hermione had laughed when they had told her about it, thinking at the time how typical it was of her father to get himself into a situation like that. Hermione smiled to herself at the memory.  
"What are you thinking about?" Tom asked. In the quiet of the wood his voice sounded loud and it shook Hermione out of her memories and into the present.  
 “My parents." She looked to Tom and decided to take a chance. _Testing the waters, I guess?_  
  
"Tom?" she spoke and he looked at her.  
"Hm?"  
Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear, "Why do you hate your parents?" she asked. She knew full well why he despised his parents, but to hear it from his own lips. To hear it in his own voice. It would reveal so much more about him that just knowing about it would. However, hearing him say it seemed unlikely as the minute the question was asked, his face turned black and his voice lowered to something more sinister.  
"Those close to me know this. I understand why you don’t, but,” he looked to her, eyes unreadable, “nobody asks me about my parents.”  
  
Hermione nodded, chiding herself for even attempting to approach the subject. The two walked once more in silence. Hermione decided to lighten the mood any way she could. "School starts day after tomorrow." she said.  
Tom looked at her and rolled his eyes, "Thank you, Miss Obvious." he said.  
Hermione laughed in disbelief that he had said something like that. She grinned, "Ha, ha. Very funny." She said, sarcastically.  
  
Out of nowhere, he said, "You know, you should be in Slytherin."  
Hermione frowned, "Why is that?" she asked. _What about me made him think I should be in Slytherin?_  
Tom chuckled- a sound which brought an unexpected heat to Hermione’s cheeks.  
"You're cunning. And you certainly have the temper and pride.” He emphasised the last word, turning his head to look at her. “Not to mention loyalty." He studied her reaction.  
  
Hermione scoffed, "Oh, really? And you know me so well?" she raised a brow and Tom laughed.   
She remembered what the Sorting Hat had said.  _Tom isn’t the first one to tell me that._  
Hermione decided to respond to his intimation of her with her own, "Now that I think about it," She said. Furrowing her brow, she pointed at him thoughtfully. "You're quite Gryffindor."  
Tom scowls and their pace quickens up the hill, "And why is that?"  
  
Hermione jumps in enthusiastically, "You're brave and reckless. Impulsive and over confident." She adopts a thoughtful expression, as though she wasn’t just teasing him, but was actually coming to a serious conclusion about his character.  
He smiled, listening. "You display most of the negative traits of a Gryffindor."  
Tom laughed again, bringing a smile to Hermione’s face.  
"Touché, Granger."  
  
  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Hermione set up the tent without much help from Tom who was opposed to doing anything without the help of magic. Although he did help her in driving the staves into the ground, to keep the tent secure. Inside, they hid from the hot midday sun, but Hermione didn’t mind after the tiring hike up the hill and, since the tent was magical, it was spacious and comfortable inside.  
Tom lounged on a couch while Hermione busied herself in changing into clean clothing. He opened an eye and peered at her when she sat down on the armchair, since his long body occupied all the room on the two seater.  
  
"What do you want for lunch?" she asked.  
 He groaned, "We're not eating any damn Muggle food, are we?" he sneered the word ‘Muggle’, his eyes closing again.  
Hermione snorted, "Isn't Muggle food the same as ‘wizard food’?" she raised her fingers in quotations.  
 Tom’s lips twitched in a smirk, but he quickly controlled his expression. He opened his eyes, propping himself up to look at her. "You seem to be unusually sharp today." Tom let himself grin then, lying back down with a sigh. He closed his eyes again, "Relax, Granger. It's the last day of the holiday."  
  
"I’m hungry.” she stated, getting up from the couch. “And I am relaxed!” she called back to him as she went through to the kitchen.  
"Could you bring me a glass of water?" he asked from the couch.  
 She could hear the amusement in his voice as he asked. And although they both knew what her response would be, she still said it. "Tom Riddle! You get your high and mighty arse in here and get your own water."  
He laughed loudly. Hermione heard him get up from the couch and enter the kitchen behind her. She continued pouring herself a glass of water, her back to him as she took a sip, feeling the cool liquid soothe her parched throat. She felt him move up behind her and turned quickly, facing him. Tom looked past her to the kitchen countertop and leaned in close, reaching past her side to pick up an empty glass for himself. He looked to her and saw her tense at his close proximity, and grinned.  
"Relax, remember?”  
Hermione took another sip from her glass, moving to let him fill his with water. She swallowed hard.  
Tom filled up his glass with water, then broke the silence. "You’re quite predictable." he said nonchalantly, sipping from his glass of water as he turned to lean against the counter, looking to her.  
  
Hermione raised her brows, "Oh, really? So, I'm so predictable that you knew I was from the future? Oh, I bet you predicted **that** , hm?" she snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm.  
"Oh, come now. You know what I mean." he chuckled.  
  
"You are actually quite irritating. Did you know that?" she huffed, leaving the kitchen with a packet of biscuits. She didn’t wait for his response as she sat on the couch, picking up. a biscuit to eat.  
He followed her out, glass in hand. "No, I didn’t know that. Not many people have the gall to say it to me." he replied, a small smile on his lips.  
  
Hermione decided they would play a board game, since Tom had never played before. She won every time they played and in his annoyance, Tom went across the room to read his new book on his bed. Hermione joined him and they read in silence, each enjoying the others company.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------  
   
"Hermione?" she heard Tom say from where she stood wiping down the counter after they had had dinner. He had finished the dishes, actually doing the chore without much fuss, to Hermione’s surprise.  
   
"Hm?" Hermione replied, as she rinsed the rag and put it to dry.  
   
There was a pause and then he spoke, "I hate my parents,” he took a breath, “because they were weak."  
  
Hermione stopped and part of her wished he had not brought the subject back up. "How?" she asked, still not looking at him. When she finally raised her head, she saw him staring at the floor.  
   
"My father was a Muggle." he spat, and Hermione knew how he felt about it just from the way he said the word.  
"My mother was pathetic. Downright disgusting. She was a witch, but she was..." he shook his head, mouth twisted in a grimace. "My mother and her family were direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin himself.” He said, “They were the Gaunts. I discovered this last year.” He explained.  
   
"I used to think my mother was nothing but a Muggle, because she died. I never thought she could have been a witch. But turns out she was just too weak. And she chose death over me."  
  
The words echoed in Hermione’s head. The last ones burying themselves deep in her mind. _'She chose death over me.'_ Tom kept speaking.  
  
"My father was Tom Riddle Sr., a rich Muggle. He lived by the Gaunts. Though the Gaunts were poor. I hate him. And I hate her.” He hissed, anger rising.  
   
Hermione looked to him, afraid. “On this day, sixteen years ago she showed up at Wool's Orphanage's door and went into labour, telling the caretaker of the wretched place what she wanted my name to be." Tom laughed, a cold laugh that had no mirth in it. “That filthy Muggle’s name.”  
  
  
"I need some air." He said, suddenly. Tom left the tent, his fists clenched.  
  
Hermione did not follow him. She wandered out of the kitchen in a daze, his story circling around her head. She was shaken from her reverie when she heard a loud, sharp crack come from outside the tent.  
   
Hermione ran out, her wand drawn and saw...nothing.  
  
Tom had disappeared.  
  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


	22. Chapter 22

 

 _Great birthday this turned out to be._  Tom thought as he strode down the empty country road. There was a purpose in his steps and a dark determination in his thoughts. _Focus, Riddle. Get this right or there will be dangerous consequences._  
  
He walked quickly, his dark cape trailing behind him and his hood up, concealing his face. His dark eyes reflected the light of his lamp that he carried so he wouldn't be caught in the coming darkness.

The path took an incline and he walked up, reaching the peak he caught a first glimpse of Little Hangleton. It was that type of afternoon where the sun didn't shine brightly and it turned the world grey and the air cool and crisp.  
  
Tom took a deep breath, striding down the path towards the village. On the outskirts of the village there sat a house, camouflaged by wild underbrush, but Tom knew it was there.

He found the front path, after a bit of poking around. Walking towards the old door, he spied a snake skin nailed to the wood. Tom raised a brow and knocked sharply on the door. He heard scuffling inside and drawing his wand, he pushed open the door, the creak coming from the hinges reverberating through the seemingly empty living room.  
  
He scanned the area, taking in the filth and cobwebs. There was grime coating the floor and rotting food lay on the table surrounded by greasy looking pots. Tom wrinkled his nose, stepping into the house. That was when what he had thought had been a pile of coats shifted and stood up, revealing it to be a man. The man’s hair and beard were so overgrown that Tom couldn't see his eyes or mouth. Tom looked at the man, who it seems had just woken up and saw him brandish his wand and a small knife at Tom.  
  
He staggered up, breaking bottles at his feet and he began to yell, "YOU!"

Tom’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and he half-heartedly raised his own wand in defence.

"YOU!" He came at him with knife and wand, obviously drunk.

Tom hissed in Parseltongue, hoping that the man would not understand, but knowing he would. " _Stop._ "

The grimy man crashed into the table, and Tom sighed in exasperation. He raised his grimy head and stared at Tom, beady eyes shining behind his ratty hair. The man broke the silence, " _You speak it?_ " he asked.

Tom almost rolled his eyes. " _Yes, I speak it_." Tom said. He stepped further into the room and the door swung shut behind him. His disgust at the conditions in the house were reflected in his gaze when his eyes flickered back to his uncle. " _Where is Marvolo?_ " Tom asked him.  
  
" _Dead. Died years ago, didn't he?_ "

Tom frowned, and decided to make sure this was Morfin Gaunt he was speaking with, " _Who are you, then?"_

 " _I'm Morfin, ain't I?_ " he replied, wiping his sleeve across his grubby nose.  
  
Tom winced, " _Marvolo's son?_ "

" _Course I am, then..._ " His uncle pushed his hair out of his grimy face and Tom noticed a black stoned ring on his finger that caught the light of the lamp.  
  
" _I thought you was that Muggle._ " he grumbled. " _You look mighty like that Muggle._ "

Tom straightened, " _What Muggle?_ " he said, sharply.

" _That Muggle what my sister took a fancy to, that Muggle what lives in the big house over the way._ " Morfin spat on the floor, grimacing. " _You look right like him. Riddle. But he's older now, i'n 'e? He's older'n you, now I think on it..._ "

Morfin swayed a little, looking a little dazed as if the thinking had tired him. He gripped the table for support. " _He come back, see,"_  he added.  
  
Tom studied the man with new interest, the information forming into a dark thought in his mind. Curious, he stepped forward. " _Riddle came back?_ " he asked.

" _Ar, he left her, and serve her right, marrying filth!_ " He spat on the floor again and Tom’s nose wrinkled in distaste.

" _Robbed us, mind, before she ran off! Where's the locket, eh, where's Slytherin's locket?_ " Morfin’s voice rose and he shook, whether from his drunkenness or rage, Tom did not know.

 _Slytherin's locket? Well, that's worth a look._  Tom was jolted out of his thoughts by Morfin's yelling.  
  
His knife was brandished once more and he shouted, " _Dis-honoured us, she did, that little slut! And who're you, coming here and asking questions about all that? It's over innit...it's over..._ " Morfin’s beady eyes flicked away from Tom for a second and he took his chance.

Tom extinguished the lights, flooding the room with darkness.

 Morfin let out a grunt of surprise and Tom heard him moving towards him. Quickly, he cast a Stupefy on his uncle and the dull sound of Morfin’s heavy body hitting the floor reassured Tom that his spell had met it’s mark.

Smirking, Tom illuminated the room again with a flourish of his wand. He walked over to Morfin and snatched his wand from where it lay beside him and tugged the ring off of Morfin’s finger, sliding it onto his own. Tom turned and pushed the door open. He drew his hood once more. Tom’s eyes scanned the village, a grin spreading across his face as he turned and made his way to Riddle house.  
  
The manor was big, much bigger than Tom had expected. Silently, he pushed open the gate, spotting a small shed next to the manor, which must have been occupied by a grounds keeper. Tom’s gaze returned to the front door of the manor and he walked up brusquely, sharply knocking. It was answered by an old woman, grey hair in a tight bun, her clothes covered a hideous floral pattern with lace sleeves. She froze when she saw Tom’s face.  
  
Tom realised this must be his paternal grandmother and he smiled charmingly, "Good evening."

She blinked, eyes wide and slack jawed.

 "May I come in?" he asked, politely.

When she made no move to respond, he chuckled and pushed past her into the house.

This snapped her into action and she regained her composure. "What are you doing? Get out of my house!" she protested.

Tom ignored her, filled with an increasing feeling of recklessness. He was untouchable. "Lovely place you have here." He moved through to the reception room.  
  
Tom heard male voices drifting from the room to the left and he looked at the woman, eyebrows raised. "Who's in there?" Tom strode into the lounge, the old lady following, stunned into silence. She made small noises of protest, but Tom was moving too fast for her to stop him. He smiled as he caught sight of the two men, "Good evening, gentlemen."

His grandfather sat on the sofa, he lowered his newspaper, eyes wide.  
  
Sitting in the armchair was his father. He had turned deathly pale, as if he was staring at a ghost.

"Pleased to see me?" Tom grinned, directing the taunt at his father. Morfin was right, unfortunately, Tom did resemble him.

  
"Wh-What are you doing here?" Tom Riddle Senior stuttered. Tom threw his head back and laughed, cold and high, surprising himself. It rang out, echoing around the room. All the three grew silent.

When Tom’s gaze came to rest on him once more it was cold and sharp, his lips curled into a sneer. "You’re not happy to see me, father?"

Tom Riddle Senior scowled, his fear gone, "I'm not your father. Get out of my house, freak!" he yelled.  


"I don't think it's very polite to yell at the son you abandoned."

It seemed his parents had caught on to who Tom was and his grandfather stood shakily from the sofa, using his cane to straighten himself. His stern face grew dark and full of rage, "How dare you come back here to torment my son." he raised a crooked, bony finger.

 Tom mirrored him, raising Morfin’s wand.

Tom Riddle Senior paled again, recognising the threat.

His grandfather opened his mouth to speak again, but Tom beat him to it.

"Silence, old man." In a second, green light filled the room and both the old man and his cane toppled to the floor.  
  
His grandmother screeched, flying to her husband’s side. Tom watched her curiously. Tears ran down her cheeks, face a mask of pain.

"Goodbye." Tom murmured, catching a glimpse of the fear in her eyes as he killed her as well.

Tom glimpsed his face in the mirror across the room and saw a mask of cold hate. He turned to face his father. "I’m sure you can imagine what will happen next."

"No. No please!" he begged. Tears welled in his eyes. He was kneeling on the floor now and Tom slowly shook his head.

"You repulse me." he breathed, before he killed his father and watched his body crumple, lifeless, in a heap. Tom turned away, taking a deep breath, eyes closed.  
  
_Free. At last._

_\---------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Hermione panicked, pacing back and forth in the tent. _He'd come back, wouldn't he? He wouldn't leave me here to wonder... No. He must come back his belongings are here._  
  
Hermione knew it was no reconciliation. She walked faster, getting angrier by the second. _How could he just leave like this? After everything I-_  
  
Her thoughts were cut short when she heard someone clear their throat behind her.

 

She whipped around and relaxed when she saw it was Tom.

 

He shifted a little, fiddling with his ring.

 

 _His ring?_  
  
Hermione took a second look at it and something clicked in the back of her head. _The Gaunt ring._  She gasped despite herself and took a step backwards. The fantasy she had nursed that she could somehow change him, somehow make him something else- shattered.  


Tom watched her with interest and he stopped fiddling with the ring. He took a step towards her. "You've seen this ring before?" he whispered, eyeing her curiously.

 

Hermione quickly shook her head, trying to control herself. _What had he done?_  
  
"No, I think you have." he stopped, raising a brow. "Did you see it somewhere in the future?" he asked.

 

Hermione slowly nodded _. I couldn't tell him. That would change everything. **Everything**_.

 

"Where?" he asked, he cocked his head to the side, faking a look of innocence.

 

Hermiome fumbled for an answer. "I thought it was my.." she stuttered, panicking now.  
  
He stepped forward again, his eyes, for a second, gleamed red in the dim lighting of the tent. "Don't **lie** to me." he hissed, advancing on Hermione.

 

Her palms shot up, telling him silently to stop. "I've seen it before." She whispered.

 

He stopped a few inches in front of her, chest heaving with his deep breaths.  
  
"But please, Tom. I-I can hardly remember, I just recognise the pattern." She said calmly, side stepping him. She could tell he didn't believe her and that he would raise the subject another time. But luckily for now he would stop.  
  
Hermione decided it was her turn to start asking questions. "Where did you go? You had me worried." She admitted, looking to her hands as she folded her shirt. "Did you meet someone?" she asked.

 

He shook his head, continuing to fiddle with the ring, twisting it around on his finger. "No, I needed to go out for a while. Without you breathing down my neck."  
  
Hermione chuckled uncomfortably and set the folded shirt down. "I hope you had a good day”

 

Tom smiled, "I did. More so than I expected." he seemed to say it more himself than to her.

 

Hermione bit her lip, sensing the true meaning behind his words. "Right." She said, "I'm going to bed."

 

He nodded, straightening slightly. "So will I."  


Hermione sighed, facing him. "Happy Birthday, Tom." She said, walking towards him.  
  
He stiffened slightly as she neared him, watching her with cautious eyes, "Thank you, Hermione. For all this." he said.

 

Hermione gave him a genuine smile and in a strange rush of affection, she leaned up on her tip toes to kiss him lightly on the cheek.

 

Tom froze and Hermione quickly pulled away, "Good night."  
  
He stood there, eyes blank as he gazed down at her. Shaking himself he nodded, "Right, good night."

 

Hermione turned and headed to the bathroom. She locked the door behind her, closing her eyes. She took a moment to calm her racing heart.

  
_Tom couldn't fool me. I knew exactly what he had gone out and done._  
  
Or rather who he had gone out and killed...


	23. Chapter 23

Tom sat at the Slytherin table, his eyes fixed on his friends and his food, but never her. Hermione sighed heavily and turned back to her dinner.

Ben eyed her with worry and Weston, oblivious as always, was stuffing his face. Ben looked pointedly at Weston, who looked up, speaking with his mouth full.  
  
"God, I missed Hogwarts food!" he said, smiling wide. Hermione nodded, looking down at her food. She took a bite of her food, then pushed her plate away gently.

"You okay, 'Mione?" Ben asked, voicing the question which had so obviously been on his mind.

"Hm? Oh yeah, don't worry about me." Hermione said, flashing him a small smile.  
  
Thankfully, he dropped the subject and Hermione spent the rest of dinner in silence, listening to Ben and Weston catch up. She spoke sporadically, here and there, but the two boys caught on that they should give her some space. When the students were dismissed to return to their dormitories she caught sight of Tom and the other Slytherins as she walked up the staircase behind Ben and Weston.

Tom glanced up at her and very quickly, flashed her a small smile and turned away. The Slytherins moved down the hallway towards their dungeon dormitory.

Hermione returned it on instinct and felt a small sense of relief that they were still seemingly on good terms.   
  
She bid Ben and Weston good night when they had reached the Gryffindor dorms. She waved from the staircase up to the girls’ dorm, but turned away before she could catch the exchanging of a look between the two boys. Hermione was the last to enter the dorm room, so she closed the door firmly behind her and headed straight to her bed. Her belongings had already been brought up and Hermione drew the tapestry to give herself some privacy. She lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling above her.

 _Well, it seems things with Tom are a little shaky… Maybe it’s time to refocus, Hermione._  
  
She sighed and rolled over onto her side.

 _First you should read that book that Mr. Walker gave you. Then find wizards that are willing to help you. The only student who knows the truth about me is Tom..._  
  
Hermione sat up quickly, grabbing her pillow from behind her and hugging it to her chest. _Would he even help me? And even if he did, I need **two** wizards._  
  
_Then I need to get them in a real situation! How am I supposed to do that?_

She frowned deeper, chin atop her pillow.

_And what emotion do they have to feel to twist the spells just right to send me back? And what spells to use?_

_The opposite of Depulso is Accio. But would it work? And what spell is the opposite of Consto Tempus? It means 'stop time'.... Maybe the same spell will work...?_  
  
Hermione rolled ran a hand through her hair. _This is never going to work._  
  
She settled down on the bed, eyes closed.

_One thing is certain. I needed to talk to Tom Riddle and I needed to do it soon._

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table, her eyes on him the whole time.  
  
She didn't know he could tell, but he had known she would be watching him. _I’m rather confused as what to do now. Should I forget all that had happened, or befriend her as I think I had done over the holidays._ _Problem was, I had a reputation to uphold and I could not be seen walking around with a Mudblood by my side._  
  
My plans had come back into focus. I had set out at the beginning of the Christmas holidays to woo Hermione. To get her on my side, so I could kill her easily. But things had changed. 

  
_No, if I were to make the ring into a Horcrux I would use my father's murder. And Myrtle will supply the diary. Much easier that way.  
_  
_Hermione on the other hand was a liability. She had obviously seen the ring before, and unfortunately for her I would not let it go so easily._

_I needed her on my side. To use her knowledge of the future to benefit me.  
_  
_My decision had been made._  
  
Tom drowned out that voice that told him that she cared for him and that his plan could hurt her. His curiosity got the best of him.  
  
By now Tom had risen from the table and was walking to the dungeons with his peers. He looked up from amid the crowd of students, and caught Hermione’s eye. He smiled, despite himself, and she returned it, Quickly, Tom turned away, frowning at the flipping sensation of his stomach.

 

He looked across at the other Slytherins and caught Abraxas’ eye. He had kept his distance from Tom. He had only given Abraxas orders to watch Hermione, and to keep her at a distance. He had obeyed, for now.

Tom’s thoughts returned to his plans. _Immortality. Just one thing to take care of before I can achieve it._

_Hermione._

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

 __  
Potions is the perfect time to speak with Tom.  
  
Hermione smiled to Weston and Ben as they parted and headed to their own desks. The two had been a relief to come back to, although Ben had caught on that something was wrong despite Hermione’s attempts to hide it.  
  
Tom glanced at her as she neared her seat beside him. Surprisingly, he smirked at her and spoke, "Good morning."

Hermione sat slowly, deciding to be open. "Is everything okay between us?" she asked.  
  
For a second Tom registered the implications of her use of the word ‘us’, but he quickly dismissed it as fanciful.

“Yes, of course. Why wouldn't it be?" he asked., expression quizzical.

Hermione frowned lightly and before she could respond Slughorn walked in and the class began.  
  
Hermione started to copy the notes on the board, but was aware of Tom twirling his quill in his hand. She tried to focus, but his idleness distracted her.

"Hermione?" he whispered.

“What?” she half-snapped at him, pausing in her note taking.

Tom grinned, amused at her irritation. “You’re looking very well today.” He said. For a moment he cursed himself for his lame attempt at starting a conversation and the befuddled expression on her face made it all the more worse, but he kept smiling.

Instead of turning back to her work and dismissing him the way he had expected her to, she spoke.

"Tom?"

He raised a brow, encouraging her to continue.

"Would you help me to get home?"

During the silence after the question was asked Hermione winced, despite herself, at the very clear desperation in her voice.  
  
Tom frowned lightly, thinking, "How? So far as I know, time travel into the future isn’t possible. Or is very difficult to perform." he said.

Hermione nodded, "Yes, that's what I thought, but turns out there are a few theories. I visited an author who wrote about time travel, before I bumped into you during the holidays.” she whispered, her brown eyes flicking to Slughorn, who was still writing on the board, unaware of their conversation.  
  
"He told me it depends on  **how** I got back in time in the first place. There were two spells and they collided where I stood, that's how I was sent back. The nature of the spells were twisted with the caster's intent and when they collided I must have been sent back in time." she murmured.  
  
He met her gaze, "I see..." he mused. Tom leaned back in his chair and twirled his quill between his thumb and forefinger.

"I will need some time to think about helping you." he said, feigning his uncertainty.

"But if I do decide to help, what will I have to do?" he asked, his dark eyes moving from Slughorn back to her.

"I need two exceptional witches or wizards-“ he smirked wider, “Yes, if you decide to help me, you'll be one of them." She huffed.

"The two spells that sent me back were, Depulso and Consto Tempus, which in Latin means 'stop time'." She said softly, eyes on her paper. He listened closely, watching her jot down the names of the spells absentmindedly.

"I'll need to find two spells which could send me forward in time. Then I need the two wizards to be in a specific situation. One where their emotions will twist the spells just enough so that when they collide with me and I'll be sent forwards in time."  
  
Tom was lost in thought and Hermione spoke up, “It sounds difficult.”   


He scoffed, “It is difficult.”

 _Damn. He would never help. I’ll have to do it alone._  
  
“But as you said, Hermione,” his eyes brightened with that strange light that never failed to send a shiver down her spine. “You’ll be needing an exceptional witch or wizard. And who else but me better suits that description?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, biting back a smile. “We’ll need to find another witch or wizard to assist as well.” She looked to him, somehow reassured now that she had someone to help her.

Tom nodded, “Leave that to me.”  


\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

He was soaring with glee.

 

_She had come to me, instead of me going to her. She had literally handed me my method of keeping her with me. Oh yes, all those hours working on the spells will prove useful._

Tom grinned as he made his way to Charms class. He seemed to be walking on air as he entered the classroom and slid gracefully into the seat next to Abraxas Malfoy.  
  
The other boy stiffened when he sat beside him and Abraxas greeted him with a nod of his head.

 

Tom returned the greeting similarly, and slowly, as his thoughts drifted back to Hermione’s plight due to the professor’s drawling, stupor-inducing tone, an idea made it's way into his head.

 

 He turned back to Malfoy, surprising the pale haired boy at Tom’s recognition of his presence a second time.

 

A grin made it's way across his lips and Tom asked softly, "How would you like to help me with a little project?"


	24. Chapter 24

“Yes, Hermione. I know.” Tom sighed, “My apologies, it's just that you've mentioned that at least six times since we've started." he said.  
  
"It's very important.’ She paused, “Make sure you underline it or something."

Tom sighed, smirking in his amusement. He underlined the section of the book carefully, Hermione watching over his shoulder. They sat in an empty classroom during their free period, books spread across the desks where they had had discussions on their contents, debating their worth in relation to their work. They had tried to work in the library, but found that they kept receiving strange and hostile glances from the other students. Hermione blamed this on Tom, so he found them an empty classroom to work in.

"Did you have any ideas on who can help?" she asked, glancing his way as he wrote.

"I did actually." he murmured, not shifting his gaze from the book. "Abraxas? You may come in now."  
  
Hermione whipped around to face the door just as it opened. Standing in the doorframe a moment later as the door opened fully was Abraxas Malfoy’s pale form dressed in that familiar silver and emerald.

Hermione quickly regained her composure, "Hello." She greeted.

Abraxas nodded his head, his thin lips pulled together in a grim line. He stepped into the room and went to survey Tom's notes.  
  
"I’m wondering what you think of all this, Abraxas." Hermione said a moment later, breaking the silence in the room.

Tom stood with his hands behind his back, observing them both.

Abraxas didn’t look up from the notes, he flipped the page stiffly. "Well, I was a little surprised to find out you were from the future." He looked with sharp eyes and spoke with a newfound coldness in his voice. "Not to worry, I'll do anything to get you back. You don't belong here.”  
  
Hermione blinked, taken aback. She glanced at Tom who perused over the notebook, seemingly oblivious to Abraxas’ acidity towards her.

  _Not a great idea to have Abraxas on the team. And Tom, to be honest._

Hermione flipped through a Latin book, searching for the right words to counter the spell.

 _Curro Tempus. Speed Time. Would speed work? Or start? Well, it was **stop** time wasn't it? So maybe  **start** is better...  **Initium Temp-**_  
  
"So, what kind of emotions are we talking about here?" Abraxas asked from where he stood, still keeping his eyes on the pages in front of him.

Tom looked at him in amusement, then addressed Hermione, “I’ll let you respond to that, since this is your experiment." Tom smirked.

Hermione frowned at him, glaring at Abraxas. His rudeness riled her up and made her snappy when she spoke, "Well, I believe that whomever cast one of the spells was feeling rage, pain, love,” she said, "And the one who cast the other was feeling, hatred, rage, possible glee." Hermione frowned, remembering the circumstances with a growing sadness.  
  
There was a moment of silence and Hermione glanced up to catch them exchanging a glance.

“I think we all know who is better suited for what spell, then." Tom murmured, a gentle frown on his brow.

Abraxas made a noise of agreement and got up from where he leaned against the desk. "I'll be off, until you two have this ready I don't think I'm needed."

Hermione nodded and dismissed him immediately.  
  
With her gaze on the Latin textbook in front of her, she failed to see the small nod that was shared between them before Abraxas left.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 ** _Legilimens._**  
  
Tom knew the spell well enough.

 _Mastering it had been a pain, but I had done it. This was the spell that would bring me what I needed._  
  
That had been the hardest part. The easy part came next.  
  
Tom loitered outside the Gryffindor common room. He heard Hermione call out from inside, saying goodbye to her friends before coming out to meet him.

She had a coat on, even though the weather had gotten warmer now that it was further from December. They had been working on the spells for a few weeks, which was slowly coming to a month of them being together. Close to a month of them combining almost every action known to the Wizarding world with the words 'Initium Tempus' to see which fit and made the spell work.  
  
"Right. Are you ready?" Hermione asked, she adjusted her gloves and looked up at him with a smile.

"Of course." He nodded, he offered her his arm and a smirk and she took his arm after a moment of hesitation.

"Where are we going, Tom?" she asked quietly as they walked past the Great Hall and out the double doors onto the foggy grounds.

"The only place we can go that isn't on school grounds." he murmured, glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes.

  
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Well, of course. I meant, where in Hogsmeade?"

"Somewhere I think you will enjoy." Tom said simply.  
  
They walked towards the small village in relative silence, both of them admiring the snowy tops of the trees and the peaceful atmosphere. Hermione caught him glancing sideways at her from time to time, but she did not address it.

Tom led her off of the main road and into the light underbrush surrounding the village.

She shot him a strange look, but Tom chuckled and did not answer her silent question about where he was taking her.

They walked onwards till Tom spotted the large pavilion. It looked old and was tangled in vines, but was still rather beautiful in the evening light.  
  
Hermione's brows rose and she admired the sight of the pavilion in silence.

Tom walked up the steps and stepped under the shelter, he turned to beckon her up after him.

She hesitated for a split second, but slowly stepped up into the pavilion as well.

Tom grinned and moved to a bench. He swept his hands over the seat and cleared away the dead leaves. "Do you like it?" he asked, facing away from her still.

Hermione nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see her. She spoke, "Yes. I had no idea this was here." she smiled.  
  
Tom couldn't help but smile to himself. He sat on the bench and looked to her, gesturing for her to sit beside him.

Hermione obliged and when she sat he leaned back and relaxed against the bannister of the pavilion. She glanced at him for a moment and cleared her throat.

"So, how did you find this place?" she asked.

Tom turned to her, "I know everything, don't you remember?"

They both laughed and Hermione spoke mockingly, "Sure you do."

Tom began to find himself enjoying her conversation. And the teasing amused him, as well as her response to his teasing of her.

“I want to know everything.” He said, “I do enjoy school.”

Hermione nodded, “So do I. But you only enjoy it because you think you’re better than everybody. It boosts your huge ego.”

Tom bristled for a moment, aware that if anybody else had said that they would have been in danger. But when it came from her he simply laughed. Her observations did not stem from malice, although she was capable of it. She was simply observing. And she was intelligent enough that he respected her opinions, even though that was strange to him.

"Thank you, Tom." she smiled, jarring him from his thoughts.

 He nodded, shrugging. "No problem, it was my pleasure.” He blinked, “What for?”

Hermione shrugged, “For taking me here.”  
  
She smiled and Tom couldn't take his eyes from the curve of her lips.

He had kissed girls before. _Obviously._ He was aware that many found him attractive and had often acted on their advances for his own amusement and pleasure. But she was not making advances. She was not offering.

As Tom shifted on the bench, positioning himself to face her, he realised that he was the one offering this time.

Hermione noticed his position. She noticed his gaze and she panicked. _I’m not an idiot, I know what he wants._ Her lips parted and she breathed out his name. "Tom."

He blinked again, eyes returning to her own. “Yes?” he asked.

The atmosphere was heavy. His gaze was hard to meet, so she looked away. He looked away too, feeling silly for even thinking it. _Strange thing. This must be what my followers feel like after a stupid decision. Which is every decision._

Hermione had believed for a second that she was the kind of person to reject his offer. That who he was going to be was indicative of who he was. And even if he hadn’t done all the terrible things he was going to do, he had already done terrible things. _But you want to._

She looked up at him again. _It was harmless. It’s not like one kiss will change anything. Right?_ Unceremoniously, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m sorry! I thought-,”

Tom had immediately shot backwards, hand at his wand. At her apology, he laughed.

Hermione blinked, starting to grow angry. _I put myself out there and he laughs?_ Hermione moved to get up.

Tom opened his eyes and quickly put his hand on her arm, strong and commanding. “Don’t go. I’m sorry for laughing. I just- I can’t believe you would kiss me that way. No woman has ever kissed me before, I am a little shocked.” He chuckled.

Hermione frowned, “Well, sorry. I thought you wanted to.” She said.

“I did.” He said, smile softening. “And so did you, it seems.”

Hermione’s frown faded and she swallowed. “I’m not… very experienced.”

“Obviously.”

“Okay, fine. Kiss yourself then!”

“Sorry.” Tom laughed again. “It’s fine to be inexperienced. Let me show you.”

Hermione tried hard to regain her composure, but with this she was out of her depth. _He had said it was okay. Perhaps he had kissed many girls before. He probably had._

Tom leaned in, placing his hand on her cheek softly. He knew how to kiss a woman. There was a formula, a sequence of events that had to happen. Touching her softly was one of these things. Something he had just done without truly wanting to. But this time, he wanted to reassure her. He wanted to do this right with Hermione.

His mind reeled from the implications of this, but for once he shut himself up and simply kissed her. __  
  


Their eyes closed and Hermione followed his lead.

 _Always a quick learner._ Tom smirked against her lips, then kissed her again.

He shifted closer and their lips moved together, following each other’s silent suggestions and giving way to each other’s’ demands. Tom jumped as he felt her touch his neck, then she slid her hand up to his hair.

He bit her lower lip softly as punishment for ruining his hair. Hermione pulled back and laughed and he grinned wide and watched her.

Hermione leaned forward again and caught his lips with hers and suddenly their hands were all over each other. Tom held her shoulder gently, Hermione placed her palm on his back. She could feel his chest against hers as he breathed out. The kiss was heated, yet tender, and it seemed to go on forever.

Finally, Hermione pulled away, smiling. “That felt a lot like our duel.” She said.

Tom smiled, “More pleasurable than that, I hope.”

Hermione nodded, “I think I won this one.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but laughed instead. They stood and he took her hand as they made their way slowly back to school.

They stepped back on the school grounds a few minutes later and with the sight of the castle, the frightened and horrible thoughts Tom had repressed during their kiss returned to him.

He looked to her, hand tightening around hers, and he made a decision. _She will stay with me. No matter what._


	25. Chapter 25

Every evening they met in an empty classroom. And every evening they would work hard. New wand movements were tried with the incantation.

The two would exchange a kiss before parting for the night and heading back to their respective dorms.

The evening after their outing had been particularly exciting,

_"_ _Okay. I'll head back then. We're done for today." Hermione had said. "We just need to keep working on the spell. I'm sure the incantation is right. Surely there will be a way t-"_

_"_ _Are you going to kiss me goodbye or not?" Tom demanded._

_Hermione stopped speaking, then laughed. "I can't believe you just said that."_

_"_ _Why not?"_

_"_ _I just never thought you would be one to ask that."_

_"_ _We're still talking."_

_"_ _Yes?"_

_"_ _Merlin's beard, Hermione. Do I have to ask again?"_

_Hermione smiled, leaning up to reach his face. She pressed her lips to his and Tom responded, holding her to him with a hand on the small of her back._

_"_ _There." She breathed, pulling back. "Good night, Tom."_

_"_ _Good night, Granger."_

It was five days after that when Tom began to have his doubts.

_Should I be with Hermione this way? After all, it would crush her when she discovered my true motives._

_And then I might lose her for good. And I would never know how brilliant she would have been in my service._

And did I really want to hurt her?

That was the question dwelling in the forefront of his mind.

More doubts clouded his mind, in class, in the library, lying in the dorm room at night after their meetings in the evenings.

_Should I be helping her get back home? I really am trying to help her, but another part of me doesn't want her leaving at all._

_Not only because of my plans for her._

_I don't want to lose her._  
  
It annoyed him how sentimental he was becoming in regards to this girl.

But it was true, he had struggled to accept it, but he had. Tom Riddle was beginning to feel for the Muggleborn.

And he was playing a dangerous game.

 

\---------------------------------------------------

Hermione could feel the hopelessness worsen every time the spell didn't work.

_Nothing is working! Not even a little bit._

_Abraxas was beginning to back out, I can tell. He looks bored most of the time. Well, whenever he deems it appropriate to even show up. And he keeps bugging Tom and I! Keeps wanting to know when we would be done!  
_   
_Like either one of us knew! We were trying so hard to get the spell right, too. It would save us the trouble if I decided to stay._

_And then I could be with Tom…  
_   
_No way, Hermione. You are not living in the 40's to spend time with LORD VOLDEMORT._

Hermione slammed her quill down at the library desk, earning a scowl from a neighbouring student who was doing their work. She quickly apologised and picked the quill back up, scribbling away Transfiguration notes absentmindedly.

_Getting back was my number one priority._ _**Is.** _ _Is my number one priority._

_I am grateful to Tom, of course I am. But things could get even more complicated than they already are what with his constant company._

Surely nothing too serious was happening. After all, I am supposed to be going home and he's helping me go back so he must not want me to stay.

Hermione snapped herself out of her thoughts- afraid of where they may lead her. She realised she had stopped writing and knew that she wasn't being productive, so she put down her quill and got up.

_There must be something in these books that would help with our problem._

Hermione wandered along the aisle between the shelves, scanning the spines for anything that could possibly contain something that would help them.

She spent the better part of an hour searching, but had no luck.

_There really wasn't anything to help us here._

With a sigh she retrieved her things from her desk and decided to pay Tom a visit until it was time for dinner. She left the library, heading down to the dungeons. The dim corridors, lit by firelight that still managed to emanate a chill, surrounded her as she retraced the now familiar path towards the Slytherin dormitory.

Instead of seeing Tom outside the dorm room door, she spotted another Slytherin leaning against the wall.

"Hermione. What a pleasure. Ready to convert to Slytherin house, yet? You seem to be down here far too often." Abraxas said, pale eyes flashing in the lamplight.

"Hello Abraxas." Hermione elected to ignore his taunt, "Have you seen Tom anywhere?"

"As a matter of fact, he was just about to join me." Abraxas said nonchalantly, pushing himself off of the stone wall. He stood in front of her, his hands in his pockets. "We thought we could get in some work before dinner. He should be out in a moment."

He gave her a strange look- earning a questioning glance from Hermione in return. She was just about to voice her growing confusion at his behaviour towards her when the door to the Slytherin dormitories opened.

Tom joined them, running a hand through his dark hair. He looked up, surprised to see her there, then he smirked. "Ah, Hermione."

He snaked a protective arm around my waist, looking to Abraxas. The blonde boy grimaced and Tom looked back to her. "Good thing you're here. Would you like to work a little bit before dinner?" he asked, lips close to her ear.

Hermione nodded, "Sure."

"Let's go then." Abraxas said quickly, almost cutting her off. He moved ahead as the group walked the hallways to the empty classroom that had become their laboratory.

Hermione causally laid her hand on Tom's back and felt him stiffen slightly. She could only tell because he then relaxed again, allowing her touch.

Her thoughts reeled as she walked beside Tom, who made sure she was close to his side as they strode through the empty corridors. Ahead of them Abraxas shoved open the door to the classroom and walked in. They followed behind, Hermione moving off to the cupboard, Tom's arm slipping from around her waist as he let her go.

"We should try some more motions with the wand today." She said, pulling out the tattered notebook.

She put it on a desk as Abraxas watched from the side of the room, lounging on a battered old tabletop and remaining silent.

Tom joined her, pulling out his wand and gripping it in the nonchalant way he always did. He studied the final few motions they had yet to try, dark eyes following the notebooks instructions. He stepped through the motions a few times as Hermione watched. His brow furrowed as once again nothing happened.

It went on as it always had, with Tom growing ever more frustrated as Hermione felt the last slivers of hope begin to fade.

It was the next try of the second motion of the sequence when sparks appeared.

They were bright- uncomfortably so. Colourless and shimmering, they fell gently from the tip of Tom's wand.

A moment of time flew past the group, and Hermione found herself half a step across the room towards Tom. His eyes reflected the excitement she felt.

Abraxas scrambled off of the desk, mouth agape as he watched.

Tom tried to spell again. **_Initium Tempus_**.

The motion coupled with the words cast the spell. Another moment shot past.

Tom had already lowered his wand and Abraxas was halfway to Tom already.

"It worked." Hermione breathed out, looking between the two boys. "It actually worked." she grinned, her eyes lighting up.

She moved to embrace Tom, his arms catching her around her waist.

Abraxas eyed the pair, turning to the door. Without a word he left, his eyes swimming with his thoughts.

Tom wrapped his arms around her, smiling softly.

"Thank you for helping me, Tom." Hermione murmured, smiling brightly up at him.

"I knew it would work." he stated, although doubt had been clouding his mind. Absent-mindedly, he rubbed circles on Hermione's back with his palm. He smiled again as she lay her head against his chest, beneath his chin.

Tom looked down at the top of Hermione's head and slowly his smile began to fade, leaving behind a blank look filled with utter confusion.


	26. Chapter 26

Now that the movements were noted down and memorised, Hermione had to focus on the casters of the spell.

Tom and Abraxas.  
  
This would be the tricky part. She knew that much. _How was I supposed to duplicate the exact emotions? It was impossible._  
  
Classes were getting irritating, a stark difference to how she usually viewed them. And Hermione found herself spending most of her time in classes thinking about her real work here.

Dumbledore began to notice, but Hermione had a feeling that the future Headmaster wanted nothing more to do with her future or her past.  
  
Weston, Ben and her had drifted apart since they found out she had begun to, as they called it, 'date' Tom Riddle. Hermione had tried explaining that it was not what they thought it was and that they were just friends, but the two boys had known better.

And if she was being honest with herself, she knew too.

 _They'll come around sooner or later. We're still friends after all._  
  
Tom helped her with the new dilemma she was facing. Although he seemed to do it half-heartedly. As though he would much rather be doing something else.

But he still came to her every day to the library and Hermione was grateful to have him there for conversation and to ask him for advice.  
  
Hermione enjoyed working with him. On both a professional level and a personal one. She wanted to go out on a date again and she wanted to kiss him again. Actually kiss him, not short, not rushed, but real.

This was all despite her better judgement and her willingness to go home.

 _Tom was a good person and he had given up his time and his wants to help me._  
  
Still, what was going on? Whatever it was that was going on. It needed to stop. 

_I was going home to a different time and we did not belong together..._

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
Abraxas was up to something.

It was as clear as the nose on Tom’s face -  he was up to something.

And yet Tom had still made no move to question him.

  _What is **wrong** with me? Instead of changing Hermione, she seems to have been changing me!_ _And I have allowed it!_

 _Yet I could not bring myself to be angry with her or to break off ties with her. She was a good match for me. A good challenge._  
  
His mind returned to the topic it had been lingering on since the day the spell had finally worked.

  ** _I don't want Hermione to go home._**

His footsteps moved up the stairs to the his dorm. He moved slowly, lost in thought, a contrast to his usual fast pace that used to grace those same stairs.

Something else had been bugging him, too. It was something he did not want to think about. Something he knew would cost him dearly if he were to carry it out.  
  
He couldn't shake it.

It was well known to The Knights of Walpurgis, as well as the rest of Slytherin house, that when Tom Riddle had an idea, when he wanted something, he would do almost anything to see it through.

But this time he needed control. He needed to resist the temptation or he would regret it in the end. He knew that, at least.  
  
Tom pushed open the door to the dormitory, watching lazily as the Knights scrambled to stand up when he entered. I no longer felt much satisfaction at their adoration of him.

Tom spoke, waving his hand dismissively, "Return to what you were doing. I'm going to rest." His words earned confused and fearful looks from the Knights as he made his way to his four poster bed. He drew the tapestries around himself, covering the mattress and himself from view.  
  
He went to sleep early that night, his mind reeling with thoughts that he would much rather have kept locked away.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The pen scratched across the parchment quickly. The pale hand rapidly writing down treacherous secrets and words of betrayal.

 

The parchment was left to dry for a moment and was then rolled up, sealed with wax and given to a barn owl at the classroom window.

 

The owl flew off of the ledge and away from the castle, the incriminating parchment held in its sharp claws.


	27. Chapter 27

"It's a lovely afternoon. Surely we could spend it outside instead of working again." Tom grumbled, long legs stretched out as he propped his feet up on a desk.

He twirled his wand lazily in one hand, subconsciously performing the movement for ‘Initium Tempus’.  
  
Hermione pursed her lips and nodded in thought. She closed her notebook with a unsatisfactorily soft thud.

"I suppose one evening off couldn't do us any harm." she smiled and stood. She walked past where he sat, books in one hand. With the other hand, she dared to lightly ruffle his hair. She earned a glare that could freeze boiling water.

"If you weren't so pretty I would never put up with you." he smirked.

Hermione quickly turned to face the library door. Hiding both her smile and the blush that coloured her face.  


Tom followed her out knowingly, long legs quickly catching up to her. A slender-fingered hand came to rest on her lower back and Hermione stiffened only slightly.

He refused to remove his palm, despite her obvious discomfort at the other students in the hallways that noticed their contact. Hermione swallowed and heard a soft chuckle sound from just beside her head as he leaned in to whisper a teasing comment in her ear. “Uncomfortable, ‘Mione?”

She fumed for a moment, then relaxed, and laughed at his teasing. Tom settled his palm firmer against her back, keeping her lost in his conversation to help her forget the watching eyes.  
  
They made their way down to the lake, and Tom only removed his hand when they had arrived.

"You may not be from this time, my dear, but I'll have you know that I am a perfect gentleman when I want to be." he said, even going so far as to bow stiffly and gesture for Hermione to sit beside the lake.  
  
Hermione laughed, sitting at the edge of the lake and taking off her shoes.

Tom raised a brow, but said nothing. He smirked, sitting beside her with his long legs lazily crossed.

Hermione dipped her legs into the lake, the water rising up to mid-calf.

"I suppose this is normal in your time? Girls here don't usually like getting their stockings wet." he said matter-of-factly.  
  
Hermione shrugged, "It is different in my time. We don’t wear stockings much, unless it’s winter. We wear socks?" The last word came out in a question. It felt weird speaking for every woman back in her time.

Tom smirked, “Socks?” His one word held a mocking jibe.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Socks. Like what you’re wearing.”

Tom laughed, throwing back his head. “This conversation is up there with the strangest conversations I’ve had.”

Hermione noticed how youthful he looked when he laughed. An image of his future self, of Voldemort, flashed through her mind and her smile faded. Looking back at Tom in front of her, the two images had become separated. It was impossible to think they were the same person.  
  
Tom noticed her seriousness and quirked his brow in silent question. Slowly, he placed his hand over hers, offering a silent comfort from whatever had made her unhappy.

For some reason, the small gesture made Hermione’s pulse quicken and cheeks flush. Forgotten was the pale, skull-like head with the red eyes. All she could see were the soft curve of his lips as he smiled, the warmth of his usually hard, dark eyes. The touch of his skin on hers.

They fell into a comfortable silence, Tom’s thumb running over her skin prevented Hermione from voicing any words as his touch was distracting her. They looked out over the lake together and the strangeness of the moment hit Hermione. She snorted a laugh, earning a questioning glance from Tom.

This time it was he who had a shift to seriousness. He cleared his throat, a curiously telling gesture for one so in control of himself. He was obviously nervous.  
  
"Do you want to go into the forest?" he asked.

Hermione’s brows rose and she turned to face him fully. Her eyes moved over his shoulder to look to the forest he spoke of. "Why?" she asked.

Tom shrugged in response. "For our enjoyment?" he hid behind his teasing and, letting go of her hand, stood up. He looked to her with a raised brow, brushing off his pants. "Are you coming or not, Miss DeLuca?" In his voice was a challenge.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and stood up, slamming her bare feet into her shoes at the sound of his soft laughter.  
  
By the time she had looked up he was striding towards the forest and Hermione had to run to catch up with him. "What will we do in the forest?" she wondered, looking towards the murky trees and the darkness beyond.

"Whatever you'd like, dear." he replied, voice low. Hermione frowned, slowing her progress as he reached the trees and without hesitation, walked straight through.  
  
**Hermione knew what he may have in mind. Part of her told her to turn back, to stop encouraging this new, frightening part of their relationship. But she followed him anyway, the memory of his skin on hers to tempting for her rational mind to overcome.**

Despite having a suspicion of what was to come, she was still surprised when he took her by the hands and pulled her to him.

Hermione gasped, rather loudly. He grinned, his arms now around her waist.  
  
His grin infuriated her and she protested, her eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Tom, we  **should** be working, but I was kind enough to let us take a break outside. And then I followed you in here and you go along and scare me in the middle of a dark forest, which we're not supposed to be in, might I add, and when you think about it, that is **not**  very gentlemanly." She said, frowning up at him, her hands on his shoulders.  
  
"I told you, Hermione. I am only a gentleman when I want to be." he murmured, leaning down and capturing her lips in a heated kiss.

Hermione closed her eyes, giving in simply because she wanted to.  
  
He kissed her softly, his arms tightening around her in a contradiction to his lips on her own.

Her arms snaked around his neck, an instinctual movement that brought him closer. She smiled against his lips as her hand runs through his hair.

Tom pulled away, breathing deeply.

For a moment, Hermione kept her eyes from his. She sucked in a deep breath, looking up at him and catching a twist of some unrecognisable emotion mar the smooth planes of his face.

Before she could question him, he pulled her to him again, holding her.  
  
Hermione, for the second time, gave in to what she wanted. She let out a sigh of comfort, relaxing completely against him.

She felt his cheek rest atop her head and she felt the rise and fall of his chest beneath her own cheek.

Her comfort was so great, her mind and body so content that when she felt one of his arms leave her body, she paid no attention.

That is, until she heard him whisper. And by then it was too late.

Tom’s quiet word sounded through her head like an explosion.

  
**_"Legilimens."_**


	28. Chapter 28

_All I could hear were the crashes of war._

_It was Hogwarts, but the school was destroyed._

_Men and women robed in black battled students and, I assumed, teachers._

_I walked through like a phantom, unnoticed and witnessing the destruction._

_A familiar face caught my eye._

_Hermione was there. She ran beside two boys down a crumbling corridor. Screams of pain and the sounds of battle following in their wake._  
  
And then the vision changed.  
  
_Hermione’s glimpse of a monster._

_Red eyes, emblazoned against a pale, white face. Slits for nostrils and a skeletal hand holding an outstretched wand. That wand?_

**_My_ ** _wand._

_I could see it like it was in my own mind. Like it was seen through my own eyes._

_My mind struggled to recognise the beast in front of me._

_Who was it? **What** was it? Why was my wand in it’s hand?_

_I could not seem to look away. Deep inside the knowledge that this was what Hermione and those boys had been fighting. The knowledge that this was what had created all that destruction, resonated through me._

_My eyes travelled to Hermione and the black haired boy from the previous memory. The boy seemed to be unconscious and Hermione was hauling him out of the window._  
  
The vision changed again and still the beastly man followed.  
  
_He was powerful, that much was clear._

_The aura of power seemed to follow wherever he went and now the visions were patch worked into a sequence. Newspaper articles declaring terrifying acts committed by a group called ‘Death Eaters’. In my ears, I heard countless conversations that were grim and only mentioned a 'You-Know-Who'._

_My own name, mentioned in the past tense. Mentioned with bitterness. Mentioned with hate._

_Then finally a boy’s voice, whispering the name ‘Voldemort’ in the Gryffindor common room._  
  
It was all Tom saw till Hermione's defenses slammed down on his presence in her mind. Where they stood in the forest, she shoved him back, just as he was shoved out of her mind.  
  
"What the  **hell** was that?" she roared, eyes burning with betrayal and filled with angry tears.

Tom couldn't seem to respond despite the display of pure rage and hurt before him.

"Well?" she spat, and Tom recognised the familiar signs of disgust on her face. He could understand it well enough. He was disgusted too. His quick mind put together the details. The wand, the familiar name, the well-known anger and rage shining in those red eyes that he saw in himself sometimes.

"W-Was…” he trailed off, recovering a sliver of his composure, and continued, “Was that **thing** me?"

  
Hermione recoiled, stepping back from him. She crossed her arms, eyes filled with rage. "Yes." she nodded, breathing heavy from his onslaught on her mind. "Yes, that is what you've become." she said, voice low and her words chosen carefully.

"A monster."  


The forest seemed to darken, or perhaps that was just him. He staggered back, as if he had been struck. The word, so often used to describe him was a barb when it came from her lips. When he knew she believed it.

  
When he looked up from the dead leaves of the forest floor, she was gone.

  
And finally his temptation was gone. And Tom reflected on whether it had been worth it. _Of course it hadn’t been worth it, you fool._

Having her so vulnerable in his arms, his future lying there in her mind waiting for him to know. He couldn't resist it.

And even though he had known it would hurt her. That he would lose her and it would hurt him in the end, the temptation had been too strong. His resolve too weak. His feelings for her had taken a back seat in the face of his ambition.

The self-analysis began as he sat on the forest floor, an undignified position, and strange sight to see. _Tom Riddle sitting on dead leaves and dirt._ He laughed bitterly at the thought and the pride behind it.  
  
And yet the information he had gained did not please him as he had believed it would. It didn’t please him in the slightest. _Why would anyone want to become that? I didn't want to._ The thought made its way around his head and instinctively he unpacked it.

 _But that’s how you get your power.  
_  
_How naive could you be, Riddle?_  


For a moment he wanted to lie on the ground, curl up beneath the leaves and remain there. So he could stop hurting the people close to him.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione fumed. Her fists clenched and unclenched, her footfalls hard and echoing as she stormed to her dormitory without a second look at Weston and Ben in the common room.  

 

Once upstairs, she lay down on her bed and yanked the tapestries closed around herself.

 

It was there, she finally collapsed.

 

Her anger at him had not subsided. But now something small and bitter and sorrowful grew in her chest. Each breath she took was shuddering, a reminder of the sharp betrayal of a friend. And something more than a friend.  
  
_How could he betray my trust like that? After what we had shared. After all he had done for me...? How dare he._  
  
Hermione was unable to fall asleep for a few more hours as she raged and stormed.

 

It was dark by the time she finally drifted off. The memories dragged to the surface by Tom replayed in her mind and forced her into an uneasy slumber.

  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------

  
_The reply came. He had actually replied._

Abraxas Malfoy grinned in the dark classroom, reading by the light of his wand. Once the message had been read he incinerated it with whispered spell and left to return to his dormitory.

 

In a few days, Hogwarts would finally receive the surprise he had been planning for months.

 

Planned especially for Hermione.


	29. Chapter 29

It wasn't easy to avoid him, but Hermione managed it for the few days following the incident in the forest. 

 

Weston and Ben had rejoined her with Ben as stoic as ever. Weston was trying his best to ignore the fact that Hermione had 'crossed over to the dark side, but now she was back’ - as he put it.

 

But she didn’t feel she was back. In her mind she wasn't anywhere now. She wasn't with Tom and she wasn't with Ben and Weston. 

 

_That was the way it should have been from the start, I should have kept to myself._

 

She ached to think of Tom and what he had done. That sharp, tight pain in her chest would return when she would glance at the Slytherin table during meal times and found him missing. Or when she saw him in classes.

 

Hermione knew she was not anywhere close to forgiving him, but she was coming to terms with the knowledge that she could not turn her feeling on and off at will no matter how much she wished it.

 

She went to classes, answered the questions when called upon. She ensured that she was no longer sitting beside Tom in any class. But soon that didn't matter, because after a while he stopped showing up for classes.

 

Hermione found it odd that he wasn't coming to class. 

 

_Surely he was alright? I mean, he was the one who had hurt me. I had not hurt him._ She was on her way back from another dinner where she could not find Tom at the Slytherin table. 

 

_He should be coming to class and gloating about how weak I had been. But he wasn't... And that was strange._

 

It was a week and a half after the incident when she saw him again. 

 

Hermione was outside on the school ground, walking near the Quidditch pitch. It was a free-period, so of course Weston and Ben were finishing homework in the library, leaving her to pass the time alone. The air was dry and cold, meaning that not many people were outside. Hermione enjoyed the cold, she felt that it helped her clear her mind so she could think.

 

She was just turning to head back to the castle when she heard someone call her name behind her. 

 

Hermione immediately recognised Tom’s voice. She paused for a moment, unsure what to do. She took a step forward, still not facing him.

 

"Hermione, please!" Tom cried out behind me. She paused again, wincing at the desperation in his tone. She could hear his footsteps drawing closer, could hear the despair in every panted breath he was taking.

 

She took another step away before a strong hand gripped her arm and turned her to face him. On instinct, Hermione shook his hand off, mouth opening to yell at him not to manhandle her, but the words died in her throat when she took in his face.

 

The handsome face looked exhausted. He had dark circles beneath both eyes and his skin looked paler than usual - somehow he looked sick. 

 

Hermione felt a bout of concern wash over her before she reminded herself who this was and what he had done to her. She kept her expression guarded, her eyes meeting his dark ones haughtily as she raised a brow in question.

 

He didn’t hesitate before he began to speak, his words rushing out as if he couldn't organise his thoughts or he was afraid she would walk away from him before she could hear what he had to say.

 

"I'm so sorry, ‘Mione. I-“ 

 

“Don’t call me that.” Hermione interrupted him, her arms crossed over her chest. 

 

Tom blinked, hurt flashing over his face before he kept going, eyes wide, “I don't know what I was thinking! I was obsessed. I needed to know what you knew.”

 

He shook his head, looking at his feet, “But I hurt you and that kills me. I know that what I saw... What I saw in your mind wasn't mine to see. I..I-I just can't believe... I turn into th-that... monster... And now I know you were trying to protect me. And that's what makes this so much worse."

 

For a horrible moment it looked like he was about to cry, but when he looked at Hermione again there were no tears in his eyes, just anguish.

 

Hermione didn’t know what he wanted from her. She couldn't forgive him. The memory of his betrayal was fresh in her mind.

 

She wasn’t heartless, she did feel sympathy for this poor, foolish boy who had made all the wrong choices. 

 

She could admit she even felt love for him. But now she could not forget what he had done.

 

"I-I don't want.. to become that thing." Tom murmured, rousing Hermione from her thoughts. "I can't control it... I'm so sorry, ‘Mio- Hermione.” 

 

“You mean you can’t control yourself?” Hermione frowned, shifting her weight to her other foot. 

 

Tom hesitated and a muscle flexed in his jaw before he nodded once. “Please know that I'm sorry. And if you can't forgive me then I just want you to know that…” he paused, unable to meet her gaze, “and I regret hurting you more than anything else I've ever done."

 

Silence fell between the two of them and after a moment he took a step forward, expectation in his eyes. Hermione instinctively took a step back, but she paused and watched him in confusion. 

 

_What was he expecting? Forgiveness? A kiss and a hug and for me to forget?_

 

Hermione frowned and Tom seemed to realise that she wasn’t going to say anything because he stepped back. For a moment Hermione wondered why she wasn’t saying anything. Why she wasn’t willing to forgive him. 

 

_I wanted to, didn’t I?_  

 

The answer came when she looked at Tom’s face and she took another step back.

 

_Because he would do so much worse if our roles were reversed._

 

"I know you're sorry, Tom. I know... But I can't help you if you don't have any control over yourself. I cannot change who you are." Hermione murmured and took another step back. Tom opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione stopped him with a raised hand.

 

"Goodbye Tom." She spoke and turned away, tears threatening to fall as she walked away from him. She almost expected him to follow, to force her to forgive him like he wanted her to. But as she kept walking she heard no sounds of pursuit and she was too afraid of what she may see if she turned to look back at him. If she were being honest with herself, she was too afraid of what she may do if she saw him standing there alone and hurting the way he was.

 

Hermione was stopped in her tracks by an enormous, echoing boom sounding out over the grounds. She whirled around to face the castle and heard the sounds of distress within. _Something is wrong._

 

The sound was deep, rumbling through the ground and reaching the both of them. Hermione turned to look to Tom, who was already starting towards the castle with his wand drawn, his face set into a deep frown. 

 

Hermione caught up with him, wand in hand, and both of them quickened their pace as they drew closer and saw smoke rising from the west of the castle. They began to run towards the building and as they entered they could hear the screams, loud and shrill, as students of all ages ran the opposite direction and out to the grounds. Professors passed by, attempting to calm the stampede of frightened students, but it was obvious that whatever had happened had them in a frenzy to get away.

 

Hermione weaved through the students, the familiarity of the situation sending a stab of fear into her heart. She glanced across at Tom. _The last time I saw Hogwarts this chaotic it was Voldemort trying to break in._

 

She reached a large group of teachers who had formed a semi-circle about three people deep around the source of the chaos. In the commotion the teachers barely registered Tom and Hermione as they slipped through the group to reach the front.

 

A mammoth hole had been blown out of the castle wall, debris scattered around the floor. Hermione instantly noticed the shadowy figures entering, under the cover of conjured smoke. Tom nudged her arm and Hermione looked to him. He nodded to Professor Killiney, the Charms Professor, and Hermione noticed that he had his wand in hand. Hermione looked around and realised that every Professor was armed and ready. Instantly, she understood that she was about witness a battle of some kind. But still, she didn’t know who they were fighting. She turned her gaze back to the break in the wall and the figures entering through it. 

 

The smoke cleared - at the command of one of the shadowy wizards - and Hermione finally spotted the reason for this break in. She glanced at Dumbledore, stoic faced and stern where he stood at the front. Then she looked at the man she had only ever seen in pictures - the man people said had been the second most powerful Dark Wizard besides Voldemort - and her hand tightened around her wand.

 

The blond man grinned wide. He stood tall and proud, and his blue eyes roved over the crowd of Professors, finding Dumbledore with ease. Curiously, his gaze did not linger on his old friend, for it moved on through the crowd till he met Hermione’s gaze. His grin widened into a chilling leer.

 

_Gellert Grindelwald has broken into Hogwarts._


	30. Chapter 30

"Afternoon, Albus." Grindelwald greeted almost lazily, his silky voice washing over the entire room. 

 

Dumbledore stiffened almost immediately, his eyes like a hard chip of ice so unlike him. It would be obvious to anyone that these two had history. Hermione was the only one that knew exactly what kind of relationship these two had had. And what Grindelwald had done.

 

“Gellert. It was never like you to turn up uninvited." Dumbledore murmured, his voice holding a struggle for control over the obvious wounds that his old friend was opening up inside him.

 

Grindelwald chuckled, his eyes already scanning the room. "Things have not changed, have they?Though I see that you are still not Headmaster? What a pity, Albus.” 

 

The band of wizards flanking Grindelwald - his men - surveyed the area. Their grim faces were covered in soot. Their flickering eyes unsettled Hermione. It meant they were not here just to chat. They were planning something.

 

”What do you want?" Dumbledore asked, his hand tightening and relaxing around his wand. The tension in the air was palpable and Grindelwald was relishing in it. He took a lazy step forward, a hand in his pocket and the other spread out to his side in a poor gesture of placation. “Send away your Professors, Albus. You don’t want anyone else getting hurt, do you?” 

 

Dumbeldore hesitated and looked back to exchange a glance with Headmaster Dippet. The older man was wide eyed and Hermione could see his hand was trembling. 

 

The two men shared a nod and Dipped began to herd the teachers away. A few refused to move, but took a few steps back to stand further from Dumbledore. Tom gripped Hermione’s arm and pulled her back as well, keeping them both hidden amongst the tense crowd of adults.

 

Hermione spotted a shock of platinum blond hair amongst the crowd of remaining teachers, but Grindelwald was striding forward towards Dumbledore and she whirled back around to watch.

 

Grindelwald took one step forward, leaning in close and whispering to Dumbledore. Hermione could only hear Tom's deep breaths behind her and she could almost feel the heat of his body against her back as he stood close.

 

Dumbledore cleared his throat and he tilted his head slightly, turning to cast a glance back at Hermione. 

 

She could practically hear Tom's fists clench. “He wants you.” Tom whispered behind her and Hermione stiffened, knowing that Grindelwald also had his eyes on her.

 

"Whatever for?" Hermione whispered, standing stick straight as she met Grindelwald and then Dumbledore’s gaze. 

 

Tom grunted and let loose an exasperated sigh, “Use your head, Hermione. What makes you different from everybody else in this entire castle?” he hissed.

 

Dumbledore turned back to Grindelwald. “No.” he said, loud enough for the others to hear. 

 

Grindelwald blinked and his lips pulled into a sneer. “Even at the expense of the innocents lives in this castle, Albus? I know she’s here. Don’t make this difficult.”

 

But Dumbledore stood firm, looking immovable. “I know you believe that my giving her up would be for the greater good, but in fact keeping her knowledge from you may be even greater still.”

Grindelwald's sharp gaze turned on Hermione then, a clear dismissal of his old friend. In a split second Tom was standing in front of Hermione, blocking her from view, his wand at the ready. 

 

She tried to move out from behind him, an irrational anger forming at the fact that he was trying to protect me when she could protect herself. But Tom's hand shot back and gripped Hermione’s arm and he cast a glance over his shoulder that left her stunned and unable to oppose him. 

 

His eyes shone with determination, that familiar ambition, but this time it was directed at protecting her. She saw in his eyes how much she meant to him. And how much her absence had taken its toll. He was not going to have her taken away, but if she chose to leave he would stand back and watch. 

 

The knowledge of it settled in Hermione like a weight. He cared deeply for her. And respected her like an equal. She could let him give her his protection this once. In fact, she may need it if Grindelwald was indeed after her.

 

Grindelwald seemed unfazed by Tom’s actions as his eyes shifted from Tom to a figure behind them. ”Ah. Abraxas, I take it? Finally, we meet." 

 

Hermione spun around, a mixture of confusion and a sudden understanding washing over her as she laid eyes on Abraxas Malfoy raising his wand to point at her face. Instantly she was hit by a _Petrificus Totalus_ and she froze, immobile, as she was tugged forwards by Abraxas and into his arms. Tom yelled his fury, betrayal shining in his eyes as he raised his wand at Abraxas, but he had dragged Hermione off unceremoniously, walking backwards towards Grindelwald with Hermione in front of him. 

 

Tom kept his wand raised, but Abraxas used Hermione’s body as a shield. She was incapable of fighting. She could only watch Tom’s stricken expression, his helplessness, as she was taken further away from him and Dumbledore. 

 

"If only you had cooperated, Albus." Grindelwald sighed, already walking backwards, the hand in his pocket was removed, his wand resting in his fist as he aimed it at Dumbledore in warning. "Well, don't you worry! I'll take care of her. If she decides to tell me what she knows, that is." 

 

Tom let out a snarl and started forward towards Abraxas, but Dumbledore caught his arm in a firm grip, earning a dark and furious glare from Tom. 

 

"Patience, Riddle." Dumbledore muttered.

 

Grindelwald walked back to the hole in the castle wall, turning slightly only to send back a jolly wave at them. He stepped out and the smoke returned, his men leaving as well. 

 

Hermione caught one last glimpse of Tom’s furious expression before the smoke swallowed her up as well.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The teachers’ horrified whispers filled the now quiet hallway. Tom barely registered Dumbldore’s light pat on his back while he moved away to survey the damage. Tom stood staring at the hole in the wall, his eyes wide in utter disbelief. 

 

_No. No, she can't be gone._

 

His breath left him in a whoosh of air, his hand coming up to run over his face. 

 

_They would hurt her. Grindelwald had said he would if she wouldn’t cooperate. And Hermione… Hermione wouldn’t cooperate._

 

His fists clenched and Tom hissed under his breath, cursing himself for letting Abraxas’ betrayal go unnoticed, for letting them take her so easily.

 

There was a painful throbbing in his chest, the kind of ache that makes you believe that heartbreak was a physical ailment rather than an emotional state.

 

_Hermione walking away from me hadn’t hurt this much, because I had known it was her choice. I could see in her eyes she was afraid when Abraxas took her._

 

_If I were to get her back and keep her safe it wouldn’t further my long forgotten plans for immortality, because she wanted nothing to do with me._

 

_But it wouldn’t matter. Because if she was safe then this ache in my chest would go away. And we could get her home like she wanted._

 

_Regardless of the outcome, I would protect her as long as I could._

 

_She was my perfect match._

 

Tom had come to a decision and he snapped himself out of his thoughts and took off at a run back down the hallway. His wand was held tight in his hand as he rounded the corridor and leapt down the steps three at a time.

 

He ran through the passageways of the dungeons and made his way to the Slytherin dormitory. 

 

The common room was empty when he entered and he stalked through and took the steps to the male dorms, throwing open the heavy wood door with a loud thud.

 

With narrowed eyes he yanked Abraxas' drawer out of his dresser and tossed the contents onto the carpeted floor. Tom squatted and rifled through the items, searching for anything that would be a clue as to where they had taken her.

 

_Grindelwald knew Abraxas. He hadn’t met him, as he said, so that means they had correspondence. Written correspondence._

 

Tom unfolded every piece of parchment he could find without luck. With a frustrated snarl he jabbed his hand through his hair and stood, pacing angrily. 

 

He turned to face the dresser and immediately paused. In an instant he was crouching by the empty space left by Abraxas’ drawer. He reached a hand inside the space and tugged on a flap of parchment sealed to the bottom of the drawer above. The parchment came free with a flutter and Tom unfolded it to find the latest letter from Grindelwald to Abraxas.

 

_There._

 

With a wicked grin, Tom straightened and tucked the paper into his pocket before he turned and left the dormitory.

 

He ran back through the halls of the castle, the students just beginning to file back in now that the danger had passed. Tom paid them no attention as he weaved through the crowd and left the castle.

 

He was going to find Hermione. And he was going to get her back.


	31. Chapter 31

Hermione was able to move again. She turned her head around from where she was sitting straight-backed against the concrete pillar. She studied the vacant warehouse they had brought her to. There were black scuff marks on the dirty floor, indicating that something had been moved out in order to make space for Grindelwald and his plans.

 

Her wand had been taken almost immediately and was now lying in Abraxas’ pocket. Abraxas wasn’t standing too far from her and he was unmoving except for his pale eyes that watched Grindelwald’s cronies as they wandered about the room, going on with their other plans. 

 

Grindelwald stood around a small, rickety table at the opposite end of the warehouse. He spoke low and despite the echo there was no way for Hermione or Abraxas to hear him. He gestured at a map on the table and dismissed his people with a nod of his head before he turned his attention to Hermione and began to stride across the warehouse.

 

Hermione glanced up at Abraxas who was standing even straighter as Grindelwald approached. ”You don’t want to do this, Abraxas." She hissed, struggling against the rough rope that was wound around her wrists.

 

”Shut up.” Abraxas responded i an equally vicious hiss. Hermione glimpsed his wide pale eyes before he turned to face Grindelwald who had finally reached them. 

 

"Ah, Ms. Granger." Grindelwald drawled, his hand in his pocket again. Hermione knew that although he did not have his wand out in an obvious threat - it lay waiting in his hand, concealed in his pocket.

 

Her eyes didn’t meet his as she scanned the room once more for any means of escape. For anything that could give her an advantage should she be rid of her bonds. And somehow got her wand back. _Dumbledore would come for me, wouldn’t he?_

 

Grindelwald’s smooth voice forced her to refocus on him and she met his cool gaze. 

 

”Finally we meet." he mused, and his hand in his pocket shifted. Hermione caught the movement and Grindelwald’s grin spread wider.

 

”I’ve heard quite a lot about you. And where you're from." he raised a slender brow. "You may have deduced that I have brought you here for a specific purpose. Your good friend Abraxas informed me of your true potential months ago. And if I’m honest I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.” he chuckled, but it held no mirth.

 

Abraxas managed a strained smile at Grindelwald’s acknowledgment of him. 

 

”I've been tortured before. I know how to keep quiet.” Hermione said angrily, glaring at the tall wizard.

 

Grindelwald laughed, his head thrown back.

 

Hermione frowned. _Of course his response is to laugh when I say I’ve been tortured before._

 

Grindelwald shook his head and as if speaking to a young child, he said, ”I doubt you have been introduced to the form of torture I will be using." he said. 

 

“And even then I am certain that you will not be able to keep your mind guarded from me when I use alternate methods to torture. It won’t matter that you can keep quiet when I am in your head.” 

 

Hermione could feel her hope fading as she watched Grindelwald step back and gesture for Abraxas to get her up.

Abraxas came over and yanked Hermione to her feet. She struggled, but he gripped her wrists in one hand, the other splayed on her back as he pulled her arms backwards. Hermione let out a cry of pain and Abraxas began to walk forwards, Hermione having no choice but to obey. 

 

She assessed the warehouse further as they crossed over to the small table. The ceiling was very high up and in a corner was a pile of what looked like old boxes and newspapers. Broken shards of glass glinted from the window frames and a gentle gust of breeze guttered inside and washed over Hermione’s face.

 

The more Hermione looked the more she noticed. Her eyes roamed over the chunks of concrete missing from the walls and the dust covering the floor. She had no doubt that rogue spells had been what had caused the damage. 

 

Grindelwald walked ahead and led them past the table with maps and sheets of rough parchment littered atop it. 

 

Abraxas led Hermione even further into the warehouse, through a rectangular gap in the wall where a door had once stood, but that was missing now. Abraxas shoved Hermione to the floor and she fell back against the wall. Her old friend stepped away to await Grindelwald.

 

The wizard appeared a moment later, dragging a chair up to where Hermione was, the sound of the legs scraping along the concrete floor made Hermione wince.

 

“Ah. I could get used to your flinches.” Grindelwald taunted and sat down in the chair facing her. He leaned forward, elbows on top of his thighs and his hands loosely clasped together in front of him. His eyes roamed her face, a distant smirk on his thin lips.

 

"Try to run and I'll sever your leg at the ankle.” The sudden threat shocked Hermione and Grindelwald’s smirk blossomed into a grin at her expression. He shrugged, “You don't need it to tell me what I want to know." 

 

He leaned even further forward, his face not far from her own. He was so close that she could see the flecks of green in his blue eyes. 

 

“What year in the future are you from?" he asked, voice almost a whisper.

 

Hermione didn't reply, keeping her lips clamped shut. She eyed him blankly, her brown eyes darting around the room.

 

He raised a brow, "That's a little cliché, Hermione. Not speaking at all when I ask a question. It's not going to hurt if you tell me.”

 

"Now. Once more." he murmured and leaned even closer so she had no choice but to look at him.

 

Hermione felt like he could read her thoughts with that gaze. She wondered if he could see her memories just like that. Then he would have no use for her and she would probably die here in this room. Alone.

 

Her mind thought back to Tom. The way his face had looked when Abraxas had dragged her away. _Would he come for her?_ Fear crossed over her face and shone in her eyes. _What if he did come? Grindelwald might kill him. He wasn’t Voldemort. Tom wasn’t strong enough to beat him._

 

Grindelwald smiled, almost kindly. “You’re afraid. It’s so refreshing to see you show it. Instead of the ever predictable hatred.” His voice lowered into a soothing murmur, “Just tell me what year you’re from and we'll start slow from there." 

 

Hermione knew better than to give in. She averted her eyes and schooled her face into a blank expression. 

 

"Fine." he snapped, standing up so suddenly that Hermione pressed back against the wall. The atmosphere shifted immediately. It was no longer quiet, despite nobody making a sound. Hermione could almost hear his patience wearing thin. She could feel her heart beating hard in her chest and the thumps echoed in her ears.

 

Grindelwald walked around behind the chair, but the distance between them didn’t lessen the intensity of his gaze. ”You’re a clever girl, Hermione. I'm surprised you stayed so long. Surely you had a way back?” he leaned against the chair, his hands braced on the back of it. ”Why didn’t you leave?”

 

_Abraxas hadn’t told him._

 

Hermione cast her gaze to the boy, who was staring at his feet. He looked up and met her eyes. 

 

_He was terrified._

 

Hermione took a deep breath and faced Grindelwald again. 

 

He spoke again, still leaning casually against the chair, but his body was taut and his nonchalance was obviously a facade. ”Did you like it? Starting again? Or did you grow attached to those silly friends of yours. Oh yes, Abraxas has told me everything." 

 

Once again Hermione’s eyes cut back to Abraxas and it took everything in her not to scoff. _Hardly_ ** _everything_** _._

 

Grindelwald eyed her face and came back around to sit down gracefully on the chair. “Who is this Tom Riddle, hm?" he asked. 

 

At the mention of Tom, Hermione froze. “Nobody.” she said quietly.

 

Grindelwald laughed, “I doubt he is ‘nobody’ if the mention of him is the only thing that can get you to speak.”

 

He opened his mouth to say something eyes, but in that moment a loud cry echoed in from the main chamber of the warehouse. 

 

Hermione straightened where she sat and Grindelwald was already on his feet. Hermione hadn’t even seen him draw his wand, but it was already in his hand as he looked to the doorway.

 

His golden head whipped back around and his eyes found Abraxas. “Watch her." He ordered and stalked out of the room. 

 

Abraxas straightened and looked to Hermione, who met his gaze with wide eyes. They both seemed uneasy about the sudden yell. _Something was happening._

 

Abraxas suddenly frowned and drew his wand. Hermione spotted her own in his pocket as he took a step towards the doorway. “Don’t you move.” He growled at Hermione before his gaze moved to the entrance to the room.

 

An echoing crash sounded through the warehouse and Abraxas shifted, taking another step forward.

Another loud thud sounded, closer this time, and Abraxas peered around the doorframe to see what was going on.

Hermione took her chance. She silently got to her feet as another crack sounded in the warehouse, followed by the distinct sound of crumbling concrete. In a flash, she sprinted to Abraxas and yanked her wand from his pocket.

 

He spun around, eyes wide and mouth open. He raised his wand, lips forming a hex to incapacitateher, but Hermione simply spoke the spell in her mind. She raised her wand and the sparks that erupted from the end stunned Abraxas and he toppled backwards with a sickening crack resonating through the room when his skull hit the concrete.

 

Hermione winced, but left the room without a second glance. She kept her wand raised and stunned every one of Grindelwald’s men that remained. They seemed distracted by what was occurring in the main chamber of the warehouse, but Hermione didn’t spare a moment to look. Instead she rook out each man that was in her way. 

 

There seemed to be fewer cronies than before and Hermione realised that Grindelwald had sent a group of them out to take care of something else while he tortured her.

 

When she was done, she ran out into the main chamber, rounding a concrete pillar and glimpsing the scene in front of her. Immediately she skidded to a halt. The room lit up with multicoloured light as each spell was cast between the two powerful wizards locked in a vicious duel. 

 

Hermione looked on with wide eyes as the blond wizard send a nasty dark curse at his opponent. With a huge amount of luck, the dark haired man raised a shield just in time.

 

Hermione watched in horror as Tom Riddle raised his wand to begin a relentless offensive against Grindelwald.


	32. Chapter 32

Tom's dark eyes were fixed on Grindelwald as he shot spell after spell at the blond wizard.

 

A look of genuine surprise flickered over Grindelwald’s face, but the talented wizard still retaliated viciously. 

 

All the spells were curses, so dark in nature that even Hermione couldn’t recognise them. Tom did fire of a few that she did recognise and both wizards raised shield after shield, dodging and dancing around one another with predatory grace. The sparks of each spell lit up the warehouse and in the darkening evening light it cast the place in an unnatural array of colour. 

 

A yelp sounded behind Hermione and she whirled around, wand raised in defence. Her eyes landed on Abraxas who had tripped on a large chunk of rubble that had been blown from the wall. He met her gaze and started forward towards her. Hermione turn and ran, eyes wide and flickering between Tom and Grindelwald.

 

Abraxas paused when he saw the two wizards fighting and Hermione took the opportunity to search the warehouse for a strategic position to face Abraxas. She knew she couldn’t outrun him. In fact, she knew she would have to dispose of him quickly in order to assist Tom. _He was going to need her help._

 

Fear resonated through her as her eyes drifted back to the battle. 

 

Tom advanced slowly, shooting spell after spell in a dizzy blur of blinding lights. Each spell lit up his face, revealing the focus in his eyes and the worried crease between his brows.

 

Hermione sucked in a sharp breath. She spun again to face Abraxas who had started after her again. He stopped when she faced him and raised his wand. Hermione sent a curse his way and he quickly raised a shield. 

 

_He is the weaker party. He’s afraid._

 

Hermione raised her wand again to disarm him, but a rogue spell from Grindelwald slammed into the wall just above her head and she ducked on instinct. Debris fell and thunked on her back, she raised her arms to protect her head and as she did her wand went spinning out of her hand. 

 

Hermione looked up and saw Abraxas with his wand raised. He had disarmed her. 

 

He opened his mouth to attack when another of Grindelwald's curses shot between them, glowing bright blue and cracking the wall. The grey dust caused by obliterated concrete swirled between Hermione and Abraxas and she turned and ran. Her eyes scanned the floor for her wand. _Where is it?_

 

Abraxas followed, sending spells after her to incapacitate her. She dodged as best she could, taking advantage of his weak aim.

 

Hermione looked up and met Tom’s gaze. He tensed, immediately assessing her situation before he returned to the quick fire duel with Grindelwald.

 

She watched as Tom began stepping backwards towards where she stood beside a concrete pillar. _What was he doing?! Focus!_

 

Hermione panicked, wanting to meet him halfway, but if a spell from Grindelwald hit her then she would be useless to Tom. 

 

Tom widened his shield to accommodate her, but Grindelwald pressed his advantage, a wicked grin on his face revealing his confidence in his imminent victory.

 

Hermione’s heart beat flooded her ears and her pulse raced. In her peripheral she noticed Abraxas was waiting till he was out of the line of fire before he resumed his attack on her.

 

_He would not come any closer until Tom or Grindelwald shifted. He wouldn’t be able to block the spells coming at him if he attempted to take me now._

 

Even now her logic was sound. Abraxas did not move from his spot, his eyes trained on Grindelwald and Tom.

 

A grunt of pain sounded out through the warehouse and the flash of spells ceased. Hermione’s head whipped around to see Tom bent at the waist, blood blooming over his pant leg.

 

Dread settled like a weight in Hermione’s stomach as she started towards Tom and Abraxas used the brief reprieve to come after her. 

 

Grindelwald grinned and raised his wand for the final blow. In an instant, light shot from his wand and Hermione could not help but cry out. Tom was thrown back on the floor, lying on his back.

 

_Don’t be dead. Please, don’t be dead!_

 

But Tom was still breathing laboriously, a jagged cut across his chest, but his eyes were open and looking to Hermione.

 

_Grindelwald was toying with them. He could have killed Tom._

 

She ran to him, just as Tom snarled in pain, eyes squeezed shut as he gripped his chest with one hand. The other hand let go of his wand and it clattered to the floor as Hermione reached him. 

 

Immediately, she had his wand in her hand. She tore her eyes from Tom, despite the deep ache in her chest that called out for her to stay by his side. With a white knuckled grip, she spun on her knees and fired the most powerful, dark curse she knew on Abraxas who was approaching them both from behind.

 

His eyes widened in surprise and, letting out a yelp, he was struck square in the chest and thrown backwards. He collapsed, groaning in pain. 

 

Hermione turned back around, relief flooding her when Tom met her gaze with clear eyes. She helped him up, her hands on his back and arm as he sat up with a clenched jaw.

 

Grindelwald watched in delight, still standing a metre away with his wand in his hand that hung by his side. "How silly of you both to think you could escape." he called, eyes alight with adrenaline.

 

Abraxas groaned again, stronger this time, as he sat up with a hand on his chest where the spell had struck him. 

 

Tom winced, his dark gaze solely for Hermione as she looked between Grindelwald and Abraxas.

 

“Hermione.” Tom breathed her name so quietly that she felt her eyes sting with tears almost immediately as she met his eyes.

 

She did not notice Abraxas raising his wand until Tom's wand flew from her hand and landed a few feet away and out of reach.

 

_We were both unarmed._ Hermione swallowed, eyes wide and shining with the knowledge that this was it for them. 

Hermione met Abraxas’ furious gaze, and something malevolent crossed his features as light shot from his wand and her body erupted in pain.  _Cruciatus._

 

Hermione screamed, body falling backwards onto the dusty concrete floor. Her legs went stiff in pain and she writhed terribly, a sobbing cry escaping her throat.

 

Abraxas laughed as Tom watched on in horror. His keen eyes flickered to his wand that lay rolling on the cement floor a few feet away. 

 

Abraxas’ gaze was focused on Hermione as she suffered. Grindelwald watched on in vague amusement, but a frown touched his brow. “Let’s not get carried away Abraxas.” he murmured halfheartedly

 

Tom reached for his wand, his teeth clenched in pain at the strain on his wound. 

 

Abraxas stopped the torture at Grindelwald’s behest. Hermione groaned, letting out a silent sob as the residual pain coursed through her. She sat up shakily, tears staining her cheeks.

 

 

Abraxas was smiling faintly and he watched her every move before. Tom shifted further, his outstretched arm stretched out towards his wand. Abraxas’ pale eyes cut to Tom, alerted by his movement. In a moment, understanding dawned on the Malfoy’s face and he cast a belated _Accio_ on Tom's wand.

 

But it was too late.

 

Tom grasped his wand firmly in his hand and as Hermione gasped for air, she watched him point it at her. 

 

His eyes were full of pain, but in a moment he conveyed everything he wanted to as they gazed at one another. He gave subtle nod. 

 

Hermione shifted, sitting in the way of Abraxas' oncoming Accio. The spell sped towards her, but Tom was quick. He raise his wand and cast that spell. Hermione met his eyes and understood too late.

 

_Initium Tempus._

 

And then her world went black.


	33. Chapter 33

Bellatrix's cackling face filled Hermione’s vision and on instinct she ducked the curse, one hand rising to wipe the tears from her eyes. 

 

She breathed heavily, lost in her true time. Everything had happened so fast. Hermione managed to conjure enough composure to run to where Neville stood.

 

"Bellatrix." She warned him. She could hear the witch advancing behind her, the taunts falling from her lips getting closer and closer as she did. Hermione sprinted away, feeling a stiffness in her pocket, she reached in and found her wand, brandishing it as she battled her way down the corridor. 

 

She rounded a corner, found that it was clear of Death Eaters, and fell against the wall. The whole situation came crashing down on her. First she thought of Tom's face before he had sent her back.

 

_Why? Why would he send me back?_ _To protect me? And now he was all alone… With Grindelwald and Abraxas. And he was injured and bleeding._  

 

_What has he done?_

 

Hermione choked on a sob, her head in her hands as the loud and violent sounds of battle sounded around her and brought her back to the present. 

 

_Nothing has changed. Does that mean Riddle lives? That he survives Grindelwald and goes on to become Voldemort anyway?_

 

The answer was easy to find. In fact, as she looked back on her time with Tom, the answer had been there all along.

 

_He wasn’t Voldemort. He was something different now. Someone separate. Although the Voldemort we were fighting still existed in another time. It wasn’t Tom. Which means he very well could die at the hands of Grindelwald and it would make no difference to this war._

 

"Hermione?" 

 

She whirled around to face the owner of the familiar voice. Her eyes widened and something inside of her clicked into place. Harry and Ron. _I missed them._

 

They ran to her and Hermione embraced them both, feeling hot tears on her cheeks. She pulled back to look at her friends, grateful that they were alive and that she was back with them.

 

Ron smiled grimly, ”We have one hour. One hour to figure out what's going on." he said. 

 

"Are the Death Eaters gone?" Hermione asked, frowning in confusion. 

 

Harry nodded, "You guys go to the Great Hall. I need to do something first." he murmured.

 

Ron and Hermione shared a look, but they both nodded and Hermione slipped her wand back into her pocket. She swallowed the ache in her chest and the dread of what she may see in the Great Hall hit her like a ton of bricks. Who had they lost? Who would she never see again? 

 

Ron looked pale as he headed off to the Hall, gesturing for Hermione to follow. With a heavy heart, she obliged.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_Dumbledore?_

 

The Transfiguration Professor was there in the warehouse. Tom could see him battling Grindelwald from where he lay on the dusty floor. By now night had fallen and the dark warehouse was lit up by each wicked spell being cast between the two wizards.

 

Tom could barely focus and he passed in and out of consciousness. 

 

Finally after what seemed like forever, a pair of arms lifted him from the ground and in a bout of excruciating pain, Tom fell into darkness.

 

He remembered waking up to see Dumbledore beside him again. In a rush the memories of the events of the warehouse came back to Tom and he panicked. He sat up suddenly and vaguely realised that he was no longer in pain. 

 

"What happened?" He rasped, his voice shaky and hoarse. White bandages wrapped around his bare chest and another was too tight around his thigh. _So I had been injured._

 

“Are you in any pain, Riddle?” Dumbldore asked, peering at him over his spectacles. The sight seemed strange to Tom, so normal, but strange out of the context of teacher and student. 

 

Dumbledore let out a soft sigh and his weariness was made apparent in the way he hung his head and how his brow creased. 

 

The question hit Tom like a freight train and almost knocked him back onto the infirmary bed. They were back in Hogwarts, Tom observed, looking around the dimly lit room with rows of empty beds. Tom realised one bed wasn’t empty, the one across the room. On the thin mattress lay a sleeping platinum blond haired boy. _Abraxas._

 

The question hit Tom like a freight train and almost knocked him back onto the infirmary bed.

 

_Where was Hermione?_

 

Dumbledore spoke again and Tom brought his eyes back to the Professor. ”Grindelwald is dead. It is all over now." he informed him.

 

But Tom shook his head, a frown on his brow. "Where is Hermione?" 

 

Dumbledore gave Tom a knowing look and he straightened where he sat on the chair beside Tom’s bed. ”Mr. Malfoy has informed me that she is where she belongs now.” 

 

For a split second Tom was confused. _Did Dumbldore not know about her true home?_

 

His confusion disappeared when Dumbledore added, “In her own time."

 

Tom’s heart fell out of his chest.

 

“No." He breathed out involuntarily, his hands rising to cradle his head. 

 

He remembered what had happened and what he had done. As well as why he did it.

 

Tom had send her back to keep her safe. They had lost the duel with Grindelwald and Abraxas. But now she was back where she belonged like she had wanted.

 

_But what about me?_ There was no happiness in me.

“I’m sorry, Tom. Get some rest and you are excused from lessons tomorrow." Dumbledore said and stood from the bed, moving to the infirmary door. Once he had left, Tom shuddered and tears escaped him. 

 

_You sent her back into a battle, Riddle._ _She wasn’t any safer in her own time than she had been here. And now you are without her._

 

It was too quiet in the infirmary, with only Abraxas’ steady breathing to fill the silence. Suddenly, Tom tossed back the covers and and swung his legs out of the bed. His feet hit the ground and he walked to the door, leaving the infirmary behind.

 

His mind raced, coming to a decision.

 

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The battle had taken so many lives. When Hermione saw the blank faces of both the living and the dead in the Great Hall, she felt hot tears spill from her eyes. 

 

She could barely look at the empty bodies of Fred and Remus and Tonks. 

 

Her eyes passed over the students, her friends, sitting silently beside the dead. At one point she could no longer bear the pain and she pushed open the doors and left the Hall, her heart heavy and her head spinning.

 

She walked down the ruined corridors, stepping over large chunks of rubble and being forced to take detours when she found that many familiar passaged had been utterly destroyed. Her feet carried her to the doors and she looked out over the destruction of the castle grounds. 

 

And that was when she saw it.


	34. Chapter 34

The flash of bright light would have blinded her had she been closer. It shone out from somewhere behind the lake.

 

Immediately, she was on guard with her wand in hand. She narrowed her eyes and turned slightly to run back into the castle with a warning for her friends. 

 

_Surely an hour hadn't passed already?_

 

Hermione didn’t wait to find out about the flash of light. She ran back inside quickly and spun, raising her wand and locking the doors behind her with as many safety spells that she could recall. 

 

With one final glance at the locked doors, she turned and ran back the way she had come. Outside the Hall she spotted Ron and made her way over to his side. She opened her mouth to tell him about the light, but a commotion amongst the survivors had them pushing out of the Hall towards the main entrance of the castle.

 

The huge wooden doors were open, one lying loose on it’s hinges. The witches and wizards walked over the door and leapt down onto the steps that led out to the front courtyard. Instantly, the atmosphere shifted as the first survivors spotted the group of Death Eaters waiting across the courtyard for them.

 

The air was cool outside and it bit at Hermione’s cheeks and nose as she pushed out to see the sight as well.

 

_Harry._

 

Someone yelled his name, cries echoing out from our side of the square. Professor McGonagall, to Hermione’s surprise, cried out in fury. Hermione was vaguely aware of Ron and Ginny beside her as they pushed through, as if getting closer would make the horrible vision disappear. Hagrid cried, his huge shoulder shaking as he held Harry’s limp body. The boy’s glasses sat askew on his face, one arm falling to hang loosely beside him.

 

Bellatrix’s cackling laugh sounded in reply and someone in the crowd cried out, ”No!”

 

The word found it’s way into Hermione’s mind and played on repeat. Tears blinded her and she felt Ginny’s hand grip her own roughly. Hermione was grateful for the contact as the whole crowd began to yell Harry's name, calling out insults at the Death Eaters.

 

"Silence!" Voldemort's voice rang out and in an instant the courtyard was silent. Hermione scanned the wizard, her eyes wide and watery as she looked upon the monster who had once been the boy she loved. 

 

_It wasn’t right. This wasn’t Tom._

 

Voldemort spoke again and a trembling Hagrid placed Harry's form onto the grass with care. Hermione felt a sob catch in her throat at the reverence Hagrid showed Harry’s body even in death.

 

Voldemort strode in front of his army, but his words did not reach Hermione’s ears until Ron’s sudden yell shook her from her thoughts.

 

"He beat you!" He shouted, and the crowd around her sounded their vehement agreement. Hermione found herself letting out a roar as well, her sorrow shifting into hatred.

 

The Dark Lord spoke once more and everyone listened despite themselves, "He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds, killed while trying to save himself." Voldemort's voice was gilded in delight. Suddenly a body shot forth from the crowd around the steps and Hermion recognised Neville making a beeline directly for Voldemort. A cry sounded out as a flash of light tossed Neville to the ground.

 

In the sudden quiet, the crowd watched in fear and terror as Voldemort approached the boy. 

 

"And who is this? Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?" 

 

Bellatrix laughed and answered him, "It's Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble!” Her dark eyes glinted with insanity, “The son of the Aurors, remember?"

 

Voldemort looked down at Neville appraisingly as he stood in front of the dark wizard. 

 

"Ah, yes, I remember. But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?" Voldemort asked, but his voice held no warmth.

 

Neville faced Voldemort. "So what if I am?" he asked loudly.

 

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom." 

 

Hermione saw Neville’s mouth move and then he yelled out for everyone to hear, "Dumbledore's Army!”

 

There was an answering cheer from the crowd, a show of support and of strength.

 

Voldemort's face twisted dangerously and his voice dropped in pitch, but remained audible. ”Very well. If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head, be it." 

 

A scream sounded out as a window in the castle smashed open, sending sparkling shards of glass falling to the flagstones. All eyes turned upwards and followed the path of the Sorting Hat as it travelled to Voldemort’s outstretched hand.

 

In a moment, Neville was in a Body-Bind, his form struggling to regain control.The hat was on his head in the next second.

 

The crowd collectively held it's breath.

 

”Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to oppose me." Voldemort spoke and before he had finished speaking, the Sorting Hat burst into flames atop Neville's head.

 

Neville could only scream and struggle to move. Answering scream of horror echoed from Neville’s friends, the crowd jostling forward as if to save him.

 

There was a pounding of heavy feet, the ground shaking and eliciting more raucous terror from the crowd on the steps. Grawp came breaking through, debris flying from his heavy footfalls. Ron grabbed Hermione’s arm and tugged her aside as bits of concrete pelted down. 

 

Chaos ensued as Grawp’s deep, gravelly voice called for Hagrid and Voldemort's giants moved forward to attack him. The ground shook, terrified cries sounding as students were knocked off their feet. 

 

Centaur arrows fired out towards the startled Death Eaters and Hermione spotted Neville as he broke free of the Body-Bind in the confusion. In the next instant, Neville had a gleaming sword in hand, the crumpled and charred Sorting Hat lay abandoned on the ground.

 

Hermione’s eyes were trained on Neville as he leapt forward in confident strides. “Ron! Look!” Hermione yelled, yanking on the boy’s arm to get him to turn. Ron spun and followed her gaze, eyes widening as Nagini leapt at Neville. The boy swung the sword and in one clean stroke, took off the snake’s head, which bounced away from the crumpling body and came to a stop a few feet away on the flagstones. 

 

Voldemort let out a rage filled scream and whirled on the boy responsible for the destruction of his final Horcrux. 

 

Before Voldemort could even raise his wand, a shield shot up between him and Neville. Hermione frowned in confusion, sharing a quick glance with Ron, who was as confused.

 

“HARRY!” Hagrid yelled, attracting attention to him. “Harry! Where’s Harry?!” The groundskeeper was frantic, eyes on the ground as he stumbled forward.

 

Hermione’s wand was drawn and the crowd pushed back into the entrance hall of the castle. Hermione fought forward to try and join the fight before she spotted Voldemort entering through the ruined doors and into the castle. Immediately, Hermione turned and ran to where the students and teachers were regrouping in the Great Hall.

 

Voldemort screamed at his followers to follow him, shooting off deadly dark curses at his enemies.

 

Hermione was forced to engage a Death Eater in a duel, fighting viciously as Harry’s body filled her vision. 

 

Both Hermione and her opponent paused as a high pitched battle cry sounded in the Hall, the House Elves breaking through to join the fray. The sight of them spurred Hermione on as she turned and used the Death Eater’s distraction to her advantage and disarmed him.

 

The battle raged on. George and Lee Jordan slammed Yaxley to the ground, Dolohov fell to Flitwick's spells, and Hagrid tossed Death Eaters against the stone walls of the Great Hall.

 

Hermione found herself amongst friends as she fought her way through the ranks of the Death Eaters. She found herself battling Bellatrix for the second time that day, Ginny and Luna at her side. For a second she allowed herself to feel gratitude to her friends. Bellatrix was a tough opponent.

 

Hermione was weakening as Bellatrix attacked viciously. Luna was thrown back, leaving just Ginny and Hermione as Luna got back up.

 

A shrill shriek sounded behind the girls as Mrs. Weasley charged Bellatrix and engaged the Death Eater in battle.

 

Bellatrix's grin faded as she was forced to put in more effort against the talented Molly Weasley. Hermione felt her gaze dragged back to where Voldemort battled McGonagall, Slughorn, and Kingsley at once. At the sound of Bellatrix’s cackle she whipped back around to her face her, a jolt of fear shooting through her before she caught sight of Mrs. Weasley still alive and putting up a tough fight.

 

"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" Bellatrix leered and advanced, sending a flurry of curses.

Bellatrix laughed and suddenly she stopped. It took Hermione a moment, but she realised that Molly had struck Bellatrix with a curse. The Death Eater’s smile froze and her black eyes bulged out so grotesquely until Hermione had to look away. She heard Bellatrix’s body fall and the furious bellow from Voldemort as he saw her body.

 

The three teaches who had been engaged with Voldemort stood no chance as he blasted them back, his red eyes shining with vengeance as he turned on Molly Weasley. Ginny cried out in horror. Mrs. Weasley, to her credit, looked steely eyed and raised her and as she face Voldemort. Before any spell could pass between them, a glowing shield slammed down and separate Voldemort from the rest of the bedraggled crowd. 

 

And where there stood nothing, suddenly Harry stood there.

 

Hermione yelled his name with the others, relief and gratitude and anxiety rushing through her until the crowd fell silent and watched Harry and Voldemort circle one another. The pressure in the room built to a crescendo, Voldemort walking with an elegance that was mismatched with the chaos of the rest of the room. Harry looked wary, but the light in his eyes heartened his friends and even thought he announced that he wanted no help, Hermione felt that he would be fine without it.

 

Voldemort hissed and their fight ensued. Hermione heard snippets of conversation passed between the two as they faced off. The crowd was barely breathing, even the Death Eaters standing still.

 

Harry kept calling Voldemort, 'Riddle'. 

 

Every time the name escaped his lips, Hermione felt her heart give a pang of longing. She struggled to focus, her breath caught in her throat, eyes fixed on the scene in front of her. Finally, sparks flew from their wands and they cast their spells.

 

Voldemort went in for the kill and Harry exclaimed, “Expelliarmus!”

 

The crowd froze, watching in terror and then confusion as gold sparks flew from the place where the spells collided.

 

Voldemort's wand, the Elder Wand, Hermione noticed, left his hand and flew upwards. It spun through the air before landing, decisively, in Harry's waiting palm.

 

Voldemort hit the floor with a certain finality. 

 

The crowd stared in disbelief, flickering from Harry’s panting figure, to the crumpled form of the Dark Lord. 

 

A second of silence echoed through the chamber before the crowd erupted and Ron and Hermione ran for Harry. She could feel tears falling, blinding her as she embraced Harry tightly. She could barely believe it, and yet, it became a solid fact in her mind.

 

Voldemort is dead.


	35. Chapter 35

The aftermath of the battle was horrific. 

 

The loss was unbearable. Hermione felt like she was wading through fog, as she wandered the empty castle halls. Her mind couldn’t focus too long on one person they had lost in the battle. Every time she thought too long on it she would begin to cry and had to force herself to turn her thoughts to other things.

 

But there were no distractions.

 

Not even Tom was there by her side. It was as though she had lost him too. She left Harry and Ron to their own devices. And she needed some time on her own as well.

 

_We had won. But nobody had been able to prepare themselves for the cost._

 

_Moving on from here. Going home and picking up the pieces of my life seemed impossible. And I could never tell anybody about what happened to me._

 

_About Tom. And how my heart throbbed with pain when I thought of him._

 

Hermione wandered through the rubble and the dust from the destroyed concrete. She swallowed the lump in her throat, fighting back the insistent tears.

 

She left the castle and wandered out to the castle grounds. A cool humidity filled the morning air and as she stepped through the grass the dew clung to her clothes and shoes.

 

Even in the peaceful morning, the green grass as burnt black in places and there was an eerie quiet that she could not shake.

 

She wondered how he was. 

 

_What is he doing? Is he happy I am gone?_

 

She could not stop the tears now. She let the sobs rack her body as she sat down heavily in the damp grass of the lake bank. The only sound on the grounds were her gasping chokes and the sniffles she let out involuntarily.

 

Finally, she wiped her eyes and stood up. Hermione took deep breaths with each step as she trudged back up to the castle. She took her time as she approached, after all nobody was waiting for her.

 

People had begun to venture into the corridors as well. They shifted the rubble as they walked to find the dead or injured, or simply to get away as she had. 

 

Hermione kept her head down, hiding her teary eyes. She made her way up the broken steps to the level above the Entrance Hall where she could sit and just breathe for a while. She wasn’t ready to pull herself together.

 

The corridor where she sat was dark and dusty from the battle, with sections of light streaming in from the decimated windows and classrooms. 

 

_There was no way Tom would find me and no way I could find him without risking so much more._

 

The finality of it made her suck in a shaky breath and she put her head in her hands. She heard the rubble shift down the hall and immediately attempted to compose herself. If someone was coming this way she didn’t want them to see her broken.

 

As the footsteps drew nearer she raised her head to look to the sound, a bout of irritation passing over her. _Couldn’t I have a moment of peace?_

 

But her breath caught in her throat at the sight she saw. She stood up suddenly and stared at him. The shock made them both immobile. But suddenly she was running, leaping over the rubble to get to him. 

 

_He came for me._

 

"Tom." Hermione breathed his name and fell into his waiting arms. 

 

Her shoulders shook terribly and she buried her face in his chest, breathing him in. He held her tightly, his arms strong around her. But she could hear the race of his heart in her ear, and she could feel his panting breaths. 

 

Hermione felt his head rest against hers and he whispered, "I'm here. I found you.” 

 

Hermione raised her head to look at him and he looked back down at her. His face was soft, full of emotion. His brows creased at the intensity of it and she could understand how he felt.

 

“How did you-" 

 

Tom shook his head, stopping me gently. ”We’ll talk about how later. Right now, I just…I just need this." he murmured, eyes warm as he stroked back her hair from her face softly.

 

"I can't believe you're alive." Tom whispered. “I was so terrified…” He trailed off, his eyes searching her face.

 

Hermione lifted her hands to rest on his chest and she managed a small smile of reassurance. “I’m fine.” she whispered.

 

Tom returned the small smile and chuckled faintly, the familiar sound sending calmness through Hermione. 

 

"I thought I had lost you. I couldn't... I couldn't believe you were gone." Tom whispered and pressed his lips to her forehead. 

 

Hermione sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist, their bodies pressed together. ”You sent me back.” She replied and she saw Tom wince.

 

"I know.” He murmured, his face close to hers. “I only did it to keep you safe, 'Mione. I'm so sorry." he whispered.

 

She shook my head and cupped his cheek in her palm. He softened at the gesture, even leaning into her touch. 

 

”It’s fine. As long as you promise you'll never do it again. I don't think I could bear it." She smiled softly.

 

A moment of silence passed between them and Tom took a deep breath, his hand rising to stroke over her cheek gently.

 

"I love you, Hermione." he whispered and in his eyes shone both fear and honesty. Hermione could barely breathe.

 

Her heart jumped, then stilled, then raced and immediately the words were on her lips. And she knew it was right to say them. 

”I love you, too." 

 

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his in a tender kiss and she felt his hands in her hair as he responded almost desperately.

 

Hermione pulled back first and smiled up at him. “I suppose I'll need to tell everybody what happened. And they'll want an explanation for your presence here." she said and wrapped an arm around his waist as he did the same around her shoulder.

 

He held her to his side and his lips pulled into a subdued smirk as they both began to walk down the corridor. ”I don't think your friends will like that Tom Riddle is suddenly back from the dead." he chuckled.

 

"But how did you get back, Tom?" Hermione asked, stopping them where they stood.

 

Tom sighed and met her gaze, ”Dumbledore sent me here. He and Abraxas, who was forced into it, they re-enacted the curse.” He turned his head slightly, eyes distant as he thought. “At first I couldn't get through. I'm assuming it was because Voldemort was still alive. But once he had died, I was here. Two of us couldn't exist at the same time. And now that he is dead it won't make much difference. I'm not him."

 

Tom sighed, still plagued by the idea that he would have become that monster. He ran his free hand through his hair. "Dumbledore explained that through Voldemort's creation of his Horcruxes his very soul was altered. It made him a completely different man from me. My soul is the same as his used to be, a little flawed-" he chuckled at Hermione’s raised eyebrows. "Alright, fine. Very flawed.” he breathed out, smiling warmly at her.

 

His face softened to match his eyes. "But you saved me from it all." he whispered.

 

"I am grateful.. To you, my love.” he whispered and took Hermione’s hand in his own, squeezing gently.

 

Her heart fluttered a little in her chest and she leaned up to kiss him sweetly again.

 

“Would have been horrible to have an evil wizard as a boyfriend.” she winked at him and Tom burst into laughter, his head falling back.

 

Hermione chuckled and they began to walk again once Tom had calmed down. 

 

"Now, come. We better get your boyfriend,” he appraised her with a sly grin, “introduced to your ever so understanding friends who will not kill him on sight.”

 

“You’re underestimating my ability to keep you safe.” Hermione teased.

 

“I’ll never underestimate that.” Tom spoke softly and kissed her temple as they walked to the Great Hall.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

"Tom?" Hermione called out as she set down her briefcase by the door. She had had such a long day and it showed in the sheer effort it took to shrug off her coat and remove her shoes by the apartment door.

 

It had been over a decade since Voldemort's defeat and Hermione was working at the Ministry of Magic. She did enjoy the strain it had on her, because it was an important job, and she liked the feeling of being useful. But for a while now she had been especially tired. A similar feeling had plagued her before in the first few months of her pregnancy.

 

"Hello, darling." Tom’s low voice responded from the kitchen. He walked into view and moved to embrace her.

 

She relaxed in his arms as he kissed the top of her head sweetly. He was still in his work clothes, a white dress shirt and slacks. His socks bore green and silver stripes, which he had bought simply to annoy Hermione whenever she would see him wearing it with his work attire and protested that it was inappropriate.

 

”Where’s Aidan?” She asked, already knowing that their five year-old son was ‘hiding’ behind the armchair in the living room. She could see his dark tuft of hair sticking out around the side as he peeked at his parents.

 

Tom grinned and sent Hermione a wink. He walked over to the armchair and let out a yell, catching Aidan around the waist and lifting him up into the air.Tom and Aidan laughed together as Toms at on the armchair and Aidan settled on his lap, still giggling. 

 

“Hi, mama!” Aidan called, waving his hands at the same time, before he turned and began to clamber over his father, pulling at his shirt to get up. Tom chuckled and let him paw at him until he set him down so he could get off the chair.

 

“Papa!” Aidan yelled and both Hermione and Tom jumped before Tom laughed and looked to him.“Okay! We have to-uh, we have to play now. Okay?” Aidan said, brown eyes wide as he looked to his father. 

 

Tom nodded, “Okay, Aidan. Go get your toys then.” He smiled and ruffled his son’s black hair as he ran off to his room, still babbling about his toys. 

 

"How was work?" Tom asked, looking to his wife curiously. “You look tired, darling.” Tom’s brow furrowed in concern.

 

“It was especially busy today. We had some trouble with a few underage wizards. I told Harry and Ron that kids nowadays were worse than we were back then, but they refused to believe me." Hermione smiled.

 

Tom smiled as well and walked to the kitchen. Hermione followed him, watching as he rifled through cupboards for food. 

 

"How was your work?" She asked. 

 

"Terrible as usual.” Tom huffed, glancing back at her before returning to his rifling. “Some of the kids are getting it and others show no interest whatsoever." he rolled his eyes.

 

Hermione held back a laugh at his irritation. He often got frustrated with the young children that he trained at a small centre in the middle of London. He had almost gotten into Hogwarts to teach, but the school still had their doubts about Hermione's husband.

 

"Tom?" She spoke up, watching him sigh and bend over to search the lower cabinets.

 

She leaned on the kitchen counter and Tom looked up, hearing the insecurity in her tone. 

 

"What's wrong?" he asked and strode over to her. “Are you not feeling well?” He raised a hand to touch it to her forehead, but Hermione shook her head. 

 

”Nothing’s wrong. I just have something to tell you." she said, shrugging one shoulder to seem nonchalant.

 

“Go on and tell me then, before I explode from the anticipation.” Tom smiled, but his eyes were worried.

 

Hermione managed a small smile and cupped his cheek in her palm to calm his worry. 

 

She decided to spit it out. “I’m pregnant.” she murmured.

 

Tom took a moment to register her words. Then his face lit up and he grinned wide. “ What? That’s wonderful news!" 

 

He pulled her into a tight embrace and Hermione couldn't help but grin and return his embrace just as enthusiastically. 

 

"I hope it's a girl.” he said suddenly, making Hermione blink. “We need another girl around here. Aidan and I will gang up on you when he gets older.” Tom teased, stroking Hemione’s cheek softly.

 

She looked up at him, smiling warmly even as she said, “Nonsense. We both know he loves me more.”

 

Tom laughed and kissed her then. Hermione forgot her weariness as his lips pressed against hers and made her insides flip.

 

He smiled against her lips, pulling back only a little to whisper, ”I love you, Hermione."

 

Hermione looked up at him, her heart full of joy. She lay her head on his shoulder, intertwining their fingers and watching as they matched up perfectly.

 

“I love you, too.” She whispered back.


End file.
